


May the Froth Be With You

by Draco_sollicitus



Series: May The Froth Be With You Universe [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens, Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, BB is a dog, Barista Rey, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Grad student Rey, He does a little (a lot) better in part two, Kylo Ren is unredeemed in part one, Modern AU, Musical Poe Dameron, PTSD, Part One is Rated T, Part Two is rated M or E depending, Rose and Finn ship it, coffee shop AU, references to mental illness, ridiculous Finn/Rose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-03-27 16:48:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 150,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13884990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draco_sollicitus/pseuds/Draco_sollicitus
Summary: “This one’s for the pretty girl behind the bar,” Poe announces into the microphone, grinning at Rey.“No, it’s not!” She hollers, turning around to scrub a pan viciously.Part One (Rated T): A modern coffee shop AU where Rey is a tired barista who has to work the night shift after losing a bet to Finn Trooper, her best friend and roommate. Every Wednesday is Open Mic Night at The Resistance Coffee Shop, and Rey does not have high hopes for the event, until a handsome musician named Poe walks into the shop. However, her interest in Poe, the sweet, awkward patron is tested by his on-stage persona -- you know, the one where he stares at her during every. single. love. song.Part Two (Rated M or E depending on the chapter) : After the coffee shop; the development of Poe and Rey's relationship





	1. Open Mic (Part One)

**Author's Note:**

> This is also secretly sort of a song fic in the first chapter, just a heads up. If you read [Bound to the Light](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13505961/chapters/30975165), my monster Damerey fic that really leans into the whole "space opera" thing, well, this is...well it's fluff. It's just fluff. 
> 
> Okay, there's probably more than a little bit of angst sprinkled into the fluff b/c that's who I am.  
> Ch. 3 is where that angst really starts to come in.
> 
>  
> 
> EDIT:  
> At the end of "May the Froth Be With You," the lovely [ILoveYouRoza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ILoveYouRoza/pseuds/ILoveYouRoza) made a moodboard for this fic that started as a fluffy <20k word fic and became a ~300 page angst-fest. 
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Here it is, and go ahead and check out her awesome [Damerey tumblr page](http://poeandreydameron.tumblr.com) when you get a chance!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is also secretly sort of a song fic in the first half, just a heads up. If you read Bound to the Light, my monster Damerey fic that really leans into the whole "space opera" thing, well, this is...well it's fluff. It's just fluff.
> 
> Okay, there's probably more than a little bit of angst sprinkled into the fluff b/c that's who I am.
> 
>  
> 
> (i'm not kidding about Kylo being a creeper, he's seriously unredeemed in this)
> 
>  
> 
> Part Two of this begins in Chapter 6 and that's when it gets solidly mature/explicit/more adult-er

Rey’s scrubbing the counter at Resistance Coffeeshop when Kylo Ren walks in. Because the universe continues to conspire against her.

Ren is high on her Shit List – probably takes the top spot, no contest, now that Unkar Plutt is six feet under – after hiking the rent on this place to a unbelievable amount last month. Rey works here with her best friends Finn Trooper and Rose Tico,  the latter of whom runs the place, and she’s not inclined to smile at the landlord who’s making their life a living hell as they scrape to make ends meet  _ and  _ pay his stupid fucking rent.

They already don’t have the best track record—they met awkwardly, and they keep bumping into each other with a frequency that suggests to her is less-than-accidental on his part.

She doesn’t really want to know what he was doing out at Jakku Landfill the day she first saw him. She was digging for scrap metal for a project. And he was probably harassing some innocent soul with the compactor or terrorizing a bunch of orphans with a blowtorch. Naturally, because of the universe’s conspiracy against her, he turned out to be the asshole landlord Rose was always complaining about. And last week he’d dropped a truly shitty proposition on her – date him, and he’ll forgo collecting their rent.

Now he’s staring at her with open hunger on his face.

“Still considering my offer, Rey?” He asks, his voice a silky baritone. She shivers compulsively, and he smirks in response.

_ That wasn’t because I like you,  _ she wants to tell him. But she’s too creeped out to yell at him, and their situation is too precarious for her to risk angering him.

“Fine,” she spits out. “If we can’t get the money to you by the end of next month … I’ll go on a date with you.”

“You’ll have a good time, sweet thing,” he tells her, still smirking. Rey highly doubts that. “You just need someone to show you how to let loose, have some fun. You need a teacher.”

“And I guess that means you,” Rey says coolly.

He open his mouth to respond, but he’s cut short when Rose storms in the door, wringing her hair out on the mat. “Cats and dogs out there, I swear,” she says, stamping her feet dry. “Oh.” Her eyes take in the scene, and Rey couldn’t love her more for the protective scowl that descends on her sweet, round face. “Mr. Ren. Can I help you?”

“I was just leaving,” he says. “I always love sampling your wares, Ms. Tico.” Rey wants to vomit into the display case, but she knows they probably need to sell those scones for her to get out of her deal with the devil.

“I’ll see you around, Rey.” He taps a gloved finger against the counter and has the audacity to  _ wink  _ at her – and the worst part is if he wasn’t such a fucking creep, she’d even think he was handsome – and then he’s out the door, snapping his large black umbrella open. He’s gone from sight quickly.

“Lord above,” Rose says. “We need to install a panic button in case he comes in here again when one of us is alone.”

“He’s the worst,” Rey agrees.

“I swear I hear the fucking  _ Law and Order: SVU _ theme song whenever he walks in.”

Rey laughs despite the anxiety curdling her stomach. She decides she won’t tell Rose about her deal with Mr. Ren. No point in worrying her. 

“So, Rey,” Rose says, grabbing her schedule. “I hear that you’ll be working the night shift for the next – seven? – weeks?”

Rey slams her head into the counter. Right. Because her day wasn’t shitty enough. “Finn.” She spits the name like a curse word. “Your asshole boyfriend tricked me into taking that dare!”

“Rey,” Rose scolds her. “Finn may be an asshole, but you took that dare willingly. I saw the video.” Rey winces. She can still feel the scrapes and bruises on her knees from where she spectacularly failed to make Kessel Run on her longboard in less than the agreed upon time. Half an hour wouldn’t even be enough time in a car, let alone a glorified skateboard.

Rose must read the self-righteous anger on her face because she wags her finger at Rey disapprovingly.  “Ah, ah, ah,” she says. “You bit off more than you could chew. And now you’re going to be working nights on Saturday, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday for the next—” and she takes out a red sharpie and begins to mark up her agenda “—seven weeks. I’ll leave you on day shift for Sunday.”

Rey grumbles something that could easily get her fired into her arms.

“I heard that,” Rose says primly. “And you’re lucky you’re my roommate because I think it would be too fucking awkward to come home to someone I had canned.”

Rey flips her off half-heartedly.

“Love you too, asshole.”

***

Always a morning person, a dragging Rey tries her best to make small talk with the after-work rush on her first Wednesday night shift. She doesn't have high hopes for tonight; every Wednesday is Open Mic Night, and Rey's sat through enough awkward crooning and bad guitar playing in her undergrad days to last her a lifetime, thanks. 

A tired-looking schoolteacher inspires some actual sympathy on her part, and Rey asks about her day with genuine interest. This is the part she doesn’t mind so much; caffeine seems to help people’s days get better, and when the person is obviously kind and lovely like this exhausted woman is, she loves getting to be part of that process. It makes the soul-sucking monotony of a service industry job a little more bearable.

The teacher is telling her about a child who managed to set a fire in the corner of the playground when Rey’s eyes catch on something – someone – very distracting. The most handsome man she’s ever seen is standing behind her current customer, bouncing on his toes with cheerful energy. He’s holding a guitar case that he rhythmically beats against his leg. A cute, fat Corgi sits at his feet, wearing a face that Rey anthropomorphically assigns as “bemused acceptance of my weird owner.”

Rey smiles at the woman and tells her the cappuccino she so desperately needs will be on the house. “I insist,” she tells her. Rey gets one free drink a shift, and she  _ hates  _ coffee. Really hates it. The woman looks like she might cry, and Rey hopes it doesn’t come to that because she still doesn’t know what to do to comfort sad humans; she’s much more comfortable with plants and animals.

“Thank you, Rey,” she sniffs, having read her name tag. Rey tries not to tense at the familiarity.

“It’ll be out in a few,” Rey tells her, sliding the order to Rose who begins to make the drink.

“Next!” She says, feeling silly. The handsome man is the only person in front of the counter.

As he walks up, she sees that he’s not very tall –maybe an inch or two taller than she is – but his shoulders are broad under the thin grey shirt he’s wearing, pants slung low on narrow hips. Rey never thought herself to be interested in muscles, but the way the shirt pulls over his biceps and chest makes her think that she might be more into them than she previously believed.

She’s staring, and she stands up a little straighter at the realization, blinking rapidly. Rose snorts, having clearly figured out where her mind had gone. The man smiles and damn if that doesn’t hit Rey like a punch to the gut. His teeth are incredibly white, with a small gap in the front that only makes him more handsome. Damnit. Damnit damnit damnit. She’s going to have to talk to him now.

Weirdly enough, he extends his hand over the counter.

“Never seen you in here before,” he says. His voice is also appealing, somehow rough and smooth at the same time. Rey’s mouth is very dry as she looks at his hand in confusion.

She’s considering shaking it, but instead she blurts out, “Cool dog.” He looks down and pulls his hand back.

“That’s Bee,” he says, leaning down to pat the dog on the head. He’s a very well-behaved dog, and Rey admires his smart black collar with a tag in the shape of an airplane hanging off it.

“And I’m Poe,” he says, standing up again. Rose waves at him; obviously she already knows who he is. “Poe Dameron.”

“I usually just write the first name, Mr. Dameron,” Rey tells him, not looking up as she scribbles “Poe” on the side of a white cup. Their dishwasher is broken so it’s to-go cups only until Rey can get her hands on it. “What will it be?”

She looks up, and she sees that he’s beet red, for some reason. Rey tries her best retail-smile and tries again. “What can I get for you, Mr. Dameron?”

“Coffee?” he says, blushing.

Rey cocks her eyebrow at him. “Yes,” she says slowly, worried now that she’s offended him. “But what kind?”

“Strong,” he nods at the end of the word. “Yeah, strong coffee.”

“Okay, so a dark roast for Mr. Dameron,” she says. “It’ll be out in a few.”

“Are you new, here?” He asks. His face gets redder, and Rey’s considering the theory that he’s having an allergic reaction to something.

“No, I usually work the day shift,” she shrugs. “I lost a bet, and I’m on night duty for the next two months.”

“Poe’s a regular!” Rose chirps. “And Rey’s the best. So it must be luck that brought you two together, finally!”

“Good luck,” Poe agrees, smiling. It’s smaller than the first grin he gave her, but it gets under her skin much the same way.

Rey’s holding the cup, waiting for him to move away so she can get back to hyperventilating in peace. She doesn’t realize how high on her forehead her eyebrows have climbed until Poe shifts awkwardly and makes a strange squeaking noise in his throat. He walks over to a table, rubbing his reddened neck with a large, calloused hand, and sits with his back to the counter, Bee close on his heels.

Rey starts to make the drink, and tries not to focus on how unsettled she feels.

Next to her, Rose cracks up. “You scared the  _ shit  _ out of that guy, Rey. Holy fucking shit, that was amazing.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s usually a total player. And I mean that literally and figuratively. Poe’s a musician, a good one too,” Rose is still laughing. “He plays at every open mic night, and everyone loves him. He’s a mid-week regular.”

Rey considers what Rose just told her. She frowns at the percolator as she pours his coffee. “He’s a regular—shouldn’t he know more about how he takes his coffee?”

“I think he wanted to take  _ you,  _ sweetie. ‘Excuse me miss, but are you on the menu?’”  She asks in a voice pitched to mimic Poe’s pleasant tenor. Rose erupts into what’s best described as a cackle. Rey waves her hands at her friend, shushing her viciously.

Rey walks over to his table and tries her hardest not to stare at the back of his head. His hair is a distraction in and of itself – it’s short and dark brown, almost black, curly over his ears where it’s beginning to grow out. Rey wonders what it would feel like if she pulled her hand through it. Would it be soft? It looks soft.

_ Well, that’s weird.  _ Rey’s never even had a boyfriend, never had the time or the desire, and here she is, ogling a much older, very out of her league man while she’s at work.

Swallowing, she tries to smile in a normal way at the man when she sets the cup on the table. “Strong coffee for Mr. Dameron,” she says. He looks up, hand resting on an open notebook, pen balanced between his middle finger and thumb. Rey tries not to look at his hand for too long. “Let me know if you need a refill.”

“Will you be here later tonight?” Poe asks before she can walk away. He coughs, and adds, “Do you work through open mic?”

Rey nods, and sighs. “Here ‘til closing.”

Poe’s brown eyes crinkle at the corners in response. He doesn’t quite make eye contact with her. Strange. “So I guess I’ll be seeing you.”

“Guess so,” she agrees, walking back to the counter.

“He’s staring at you,” Rose teases her. Rey doesn’t even look to see if Rose is telling the truth. She’s too embarrassed; she feels like Poe sees right through her. She wonders if he likes what he sees.

“Probably wondering how on earth I got so many stains on this apron,” Rey mumbles back. She begins to clean the returned cup pile vigorously.

“If I knew talking to a cute guy would encourage such wonderful employee initiative, I would have introduced you two a long time ago,” Rose laughs. Rey flicks a hunk of soap bubbles at her in response, drawing a squawk of indignation from her annoying boss-roommate.

**

Open Mic Night is slightly better than she thought it would be. Most of the performers are awkward, if charmingly self-aware. Very few people are halfway to decent.

Rey continues to serve drinks through the two hour event and tries not to let her eyes drift to where Poe Dameron sits, guitar case resting against his legs. He’s signed up to go last, and around ten, he stands up and stretches. Rey tells herself it was just the sudden movement that caught her eye and definitely doesn’t focus on how the stretch exposes an inch of the golden-tan skin of his stomach.

“Up next, Poe Dameron!” Finn shouts into the microphone. He’d volunteered to emcee tonight, as one of their other employees called in sick, leaving Rose and Rey behind the counter. Rey’s still a little cross with him for having encouraged her to take this stupid bet in the first place, but she’s glad he’s here all the same.

Poe settles himself onto the stool, and runs his long fingers along the neck of his instrument. He smiles out into the audience, who have already begun to shout their excitement. Rose was telling the truth – he’s well-known and well-loved by the gathered crowd.

The man leans into the mic and says, “This is for you, Sunshine.” Rey feels mortified now – is his girlfriend in the audience? His boyfriend? Her tiny crush, new as it is, feels strangely threatened.

“ _ Come on skinny love/just last the year _ ,” Poe Dameron is just as good at singing as he is at smiling, apparently. Rey flushes, finally understanding the phrase “hot under the collar,” when she realizes he’s staring. Right. At. Her.

“Oh, fuck,” Rose says softly.

Eye contact is already awkward enough for Rey. She’d learned not to make it in Unkar Plutt’s house; unwanted eye contact meant ducking quickly away from a meaty fist.

To her intense embarrassment, she isn’t the only person who’s noticed his focus. Multiple people in the audience turn around to follow his line of sight and they spot her behind the counter.

Rey cannot stand this many people looking at her at once. “I’m going in the back,” she informs Rose miserably. They close in thirty and there’s no way there will be a rush. Everything in Rey is telling her to run, and run now.

She lets the door slam into her shoulders and takes a shuddering breath. Poe seemed like an awkward but sweet enough guy earlier that afternoon. But she cannot abide being made fun of, being made a fool. Her life is hard enough without silly complications like this.

Rey can hear Poe’s continued set through the concrete walls of the kitchen, but she yanks out her toolbox, the one she’s stocked slowly and eclectically through multiple scavenging runs at the dump, and buries herself in the broken dishwasher.

She refuses to think about soft brown eyes or bright smiles.

***

A week later, Poe’s back at the coffee shop. She’d successfully managed to avoid him when he came in that afternoon without trying – she’d taken the trash out when he came in, and Rose had handled his order. She was half-worried, half-hopeful he’d try to talk to her, but while he definitely saw her walk in, he doesn’t move or make eye contact when she walks behind the counter.

It’s a different story when he’s on stage.

“This one’s for the pretty girl behind the bar,” Poe announces into the microphone, grinning at Rey.

“No, it’s not!” She hollers, turning around to scrub a pan viciously.

Poe begins to sing, and Rey really hates that he’s so good at it. Because he’s singing Sufjan  _ fucking _ Stevens.

“ _ Oh, to see without my eyes/The first time that you kissed me _ ,” he sings softly. Does he know  _ any  _ upbeat songs? He could sing  _ anything.  _ Rey privately thinks that he has the nicest voice she’s ever heard, easily the best singer in The Resistance’s lineup.

Rey huffs, and tries her best to ignore the crooning behind her. She feels conflict boiling in her – of course members of the audience noticed  _ again  _ that he was staring at her, and she’s sure it’s only adding to his desired aura of charismatic, mysterious artist. It’s almost perfect – handsome musician falls for and tries to seduce a tired, cranky barista. Rey aggressively sets out the dough for tomorrow’s pastries so it can prove, and decides that she might not like that Poe Dameron, after all.

When Poe finishes his set, accompanied by screams from both men and women in the audience, she looks over at him again. He’s holding his guitar loosely, and there’s a lopsided smile on his face when they finally make eye contact, a smile that makes her wonder if this isn’t all just an act. If he maybe means it.

Rey shakes her head. If he meant it, he’d talk to her again. He wouldn’t declare his intentions publicly in front of a microphone, with a guitar and fifty people between them.

She returns to the sink, throwing pots and pans in with a probably louder-than-necessary clang, still audible over the hubbub on the floor. When she looks back up, skin on her forearms scalded red from the hot water, he’s gone.

***

When Rey’s eyes land on Poe the next week, he’s clutching his guitar in one hand by the neck, and he’s in the corner talking to Rose in a way that could only be described as earnest. His free hand waves around in the air, and he looks beseeching. Rose tells him something, resting a small hand on his arm and Poe kisses her on the cheek. Rey can see his ridiculous, perfect mouth form the words “thank you.”

That’s weird.

***

“ _ Yeah-eh-heah/You are my fire/The one desire/Believe when I say/I want it that way.” _ And there he goes with that fucking eye contact, seemingly oblivious to the catcalls from the audience as he stares at her.

Rey turns to her friend and manager, about to ask her what the fuck is going on, when she sees Rose wave frantically at Poe.

“That’s not what I meant by boy bands!” Rose mouths at Poe.  _ She told Poe that Rey likes boy bands. That’s what they were talking about, what kind of music she liked.  _ God, loyalty is dead. 

On stage, Finn is shaking his hips ludicrously and warbling with Poe. He’s got a tambourine in his hands, which he smacks more or less on the beat.

“ _ I don’t ever wanna hear you say/I want it that way _ ” Poe sounds as amazing as ever, and Finn’s harmony is only slightly off.

Finn points at his girlfriend, and jumps down from the stage. He winks absurdly before he walks over to them.

“You’re not having sex for a month,” Rey hisses at him between her teeth, trying to avoid Poe’s intense-as-always eye contact. “Right, Rose?”

Rose, the traitor, is swaying in time to the music, snapping her fingers. “I don’t know, Rey,” she hums along with the song for a second. “I’m kinda into this.”

Finn hops up on the bar, chucks the tambourine somewhere over his shoulder, and leans down to kiss Rose.

“Whose side are you on?” Rey asks her friend, aghast.

“Mine!” Rose jumps on the bar as well, and pulls her boyfriend down for a larger kiss. They end up flat on the counter, Rose on top of Finn. The crowd hoots in approval, and Rey follows their bodies as they roll around, wiping the counter furiously with a towel.

“I just cleaned this,” she snapped. Her ears are growing steadily hotter, an indication that Poe is most certainly still looking at her. “Honestly! This is not sanitary!” Rose is going to  _ pay.  _ She’s going to make her clean the cappuccino machine for a month.

***

Rey really regrets agreeing to cover the last part of Finn’s shift.

She comes in at 2:00 instead of 3:30, and she settles in for a long afternoon. They’ll be open until 10:30 tonight, which is the latest they’re open all week, thanks to the weekly music event, and it will be packed. People weirdly love the intimacy of their open mic night.

Rey hates it. Specifically she hates the indecent, public intimacy projected by Poe Dameron.

She’s six weeks into this hell, and she can’t wait to switch back to the morning hours. It hasn’t really affected her studies, at least. She appreciates that Rose gave her Tuesdays and Thursdays off this semester – and it’s an added bonus that it also keeps her out of the shop for most of the middle of the week, which means she’s not there to cross paths with a certain musician. Who she swore she wouldn’t think about outside his performances.

Technically she’s in the place where he performs, so it probably isn’t a total betrayal of her resolution to let her mind wander. He’s frustrating, sure, but almost ludicrously good-looking. And his hands. They’re objectively nice hands.

She hums quietly to herself before she realizes that it’s “Skinny Love,” the first song she ever heard him perform. Rey rolls her eyes and wishes the earworm away. It doesn’t work.

Rey’s still singing to herself ten minutes later when the bell clangs. “I’ll be right with you!” She calls over her shoulder, scrubbing at a machine with an increasingly grey towel. Does Finn ever clean during the day?

“I can wait.” She stiffens at the familiar voice, and looks over her shoulder. Her worst fear is confirmed—it’s Kylo Ren, wearing a well-pressed suit and tie. He smirks at her with his stupid, handsome, evil face.

Rey thinks back to her bachelor’s program where they studied the evolution of fight or flight response. Something about Kylo definitely activates hers, but she’s stuck solidly on “freeze,” and no actual useful response.

Before she knows it, he’s behind the counter and very much in her personal space.

“Sorry, Mr. Ren,” she apologizes, trying to sound like a firm employee and not a quaking girl. “But customers aren’t allowed back here.”

“We both know I’m not a customer,” He smirks. Rey stumbles until her back hits something.

Kylo leans over her, blocking her body into the machine she’d been trying to clean. “I look forward to our date at the end of the month.” His hand slips over wrist, covering it completely. Rey tries to tug herself free, but he tightens his grip and she only succeeds in banging her elbow on the metal behind her. It really fucking hurts, and she tries not to let it distract her. “Don’t worry. I know you feel it too.” What the fuck does  _ that  _ mean? Does he honestly think she’s having a good time right now? She scowls up at him, neck aching from the height difference.

He’s much larger than she is, but Rey’s taken out guys heavier than him. She’s debating the consequences of flipping their landlord onto his ass when a masculine voice speaks, loudly, from the front of the counter.

“You good, sweetheart?” They both turn around, Ren reluctantly releasing his hold on her. Poe Daermon, golden boy of open mic night, is standing there, gripping the counter. He looks furious. Bee sits behind him, growling softly, a strange noise from the well-trained Corgi.

Rey’s once again painfully aware of how much larger Ren is than her, and then how much larger he is than Poe. The guitarist looks ready to fight, and she’s not sure she can save both of them from physical harm if it comes down to that.

She shrugs, trying to play it off. “We’re fine, Mr. Dameron,” she says. “Mr. Ren was just leaving.” Rey snags a cup from the return tray, and begins to wash it, smiling faintly at Poe.

Kylo snorts. “I’ll be seeing you, scavenger.” He strokes a finger along the cup’s lip after she sets it down on the drying rack. She flinches, more than little worried that he’ll do the same to her hand, or worse, her cheek, but he looks up at Poe, who’s still scowling at him, and changes his mind. “Don’t keep the customers waiting.”

He’s out the door quickly, the bell jingling ominously as it swings shut on his back.

“What did he mean, ‘your date at the end of the month’?” Poe asks.

“Forget it,” Rey tells him. “Seriously, it’s not worth you worrying over.”

“I know it’s not my place,” and he’s very pink now, “but he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy you’d go on a date with.”

“He owns the building,” Rey explains miserably, hating that she can feel tears burning behind her eyes. “And he jacked the rent last month. Rose runs this place, her parents left it to her and her sister. Paige died of cancer last year,” Rey swallows, the wound still fresh. “It would kill Rose if she lost it. He said if we couldn’t get the money, he’d agree to give us a month free if I went on a date with him.” And now Poe’s going to think she’s some kind of  _ prostitute,  _ for fuck’s sake. Rey feels hopelessly young and unsure of herself, and hopelessly stuck between wanting to hide underneath the counter, and stand her ground proudly, Poe’s opinion of her be damned.

“What the fuck?” Poe’s furious, and his eyes dart to the door, tracing the path Kylo had just taken. “That isn’t okay. He can’t do that.” Bee barks at the end of his sentence, and butts his small nose into Poe’s clenched fist. The man takes a deep breath and stares at Bee, clearly trying to work through the tension in his body.

“Don’t worry about it, Mr. Dameron,” she laughs, trying to hide how embarrassed, how ashamed she is that he saw her this low.

“I’m going to worry about it,” he swears. “Seriously, Rey. What’s going to happen if you go on that date with him?” The question hangs in the air between them, and Rey squirms from the implication. Kylo Ren gets what he wants, that much is clear.

Rey laughs, awkwardly, and tries to diffuse the tension. “Don’t worry, really. Even if I do end up having to go on a date with him, you’ll still be able to do that ‘flirting with the barista’ shtick at open mic nights without him going crazy. I’m pretty sure he spends his nights stalking new victims to feed on, so he won’t be in here to get jealous.” Rey grabs a pot and dries it, trying not to cry from the storm of emotions in her.

When she looks up, Poe is staring at her. The look in his eyes confuses Rey. It’s, well, it’s tormented _.  _ There’s so much, too much, in his face when he stares at her, a true open book. No one has ever looked at her with that level of emotion. “What  _ shtick _ ?” He asks, voice cracking on the word.

“You know,” Rey is uncomfortable. She’s so out of her depth. “The one where the good-looking guy with a guitar teases the younger, shy waitress who’s never been on a date, and who he probably wouldn’t look at twice, let alone notice, outside this place.” She shrugs, and her smile is unbearably painful on her face. “I get it. I really get it.” Rey tries to return his gaze, but just as it is during open mic, it’s too hurtful to hold for long. Poe Dameron is so damn pretty, he hurts to look at. And she’s just Rey. Just a girl who scavenges for scrap metal in a dump, who only gets a date when they’re foisted upon her by lecherous older men in nice suits, by men who weirdly get off on her terror.

Rey’s definitely about to cry now, and Poe’s still looking at her. “Can I,” she clears her throat. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t take your order. Can I get you anything?” She takes a watery breath, and smiles at Bee. “Maybe a treat for the handsome fellow?”

“Rey,” Poe says in barely a whisper. “Don’t think that about yourself.” She really does have to look at him now, if only because he sounds nothing like the over-confident, untouchable singer from his performances. He sounds human and looks vulnerable, his eyelashes framing his serious brown eyes. Rey’s heart stutters when he bites his lower lip slowly, clearly debating something in his head.

Poe blinks and then reaches out across the counter, hesitantly, as if she were an animal he could frighten. He takes her hand, and Rey can only focus on his callouses, the warmth of his fingers as he touches her. No one’s ever touched her like this, like she was fragile, like she was something worth protecting. Rey’s looking at his face now, but he’s staring down at where they’re touching. “And I’d notice you anywhere, Sunshine.”

Her heart pounds in her chest as he looks up, a concerned line between his brows. “Sorry,” he mutters, releasing her hand. It’s all she can do to stop herself from chasing his touch across the counter. “I’ll leave you alone, now.”

_ What if I don’t want you to?  _ A braver part of Rey wants to ask.

Instead, she smiles at him, and he barely manages to return it before he moves to leave. “Come on, Beebee.” The dog whines softly, looking up at Rey with his limpid eyes and then turns to obey its master.

“Poe,” she calls to him. He pauses, looks over his shoulder at her. “See you tonight?” She’s inexplicably nervous about his answer.

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” Poe manages to smile at her, eyes still wounded from  _ something.  _ “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

He’s out the door, and Rey puts her head on the cool glass of the counter, trying and failing to catch her breath.

***

Poe looks sad, still, when he takes his seat at the mic that night. “Now, I know I have some fans in the audience. I hope that isn’t too pretentious to say. But,” and she notices that he looks much smaller than normal. “But I regret to inform you that this is probably my last performance here.” There are shouts and protests from the crowd, but Poe just huffs a laugh and runs his hand along the neck of his guitar nervously. “I know, I know. But I uh. I might have overstayed my welcome.”

Rey’s heart hurts.

“This is for you,” he whispers, the mic barely catching it. The crowd is dead silent, and Rey is frozen. “It’s what I should have sang for you. Just for you. No one else.”

“ _ If I had wings like Noah's dove/I'd fly the river to the one I love _ ,” his voice is still the most beautiful one she’s ever heard. And it’s the last time she’ll ever hear it, because she scared him away.

_ You’re too hard,  _ her old social worker’s voice lashes into her.  _ Not soft enough. No one will love you if you don’t let them.  _ Poe Dameron was overbearing, sure, and probably a little too cocky with his crooked smile and confident songs. He smiles too publicly with too many witnesses. He hadn’t asked her if she’d rather talk to him in private, instead broadcasting his shit for everyone to hear. She didn’t realize he meant it. But now she’s painfully aware that he did, and that she really, really likes him to the point it makes her stupid, and it’s too late.

“ _ Well I had a man who was long and tall/Who moved his body like a cannonball/Well fare thee well, my honey, fare thee well _ ,” He’s definitely saying goodbye. She was too stuck on her first impression of him, and he’s leaving. Everyone leaves. She can’t blame him for this—she hadn’t given him a chance to stay.

“ _ So show us a bird flyin' high above/Life ain't worth living without the one you love,” _ She stares at him the whole time he sings, barely hearing the verses at times, she’s so focused on his face.

His eyes are fixed determinedly on the stage in front of him. He doesn’t look up once.

“ _ Fare thee well, my honey, fare thee well/Well fare thee well, my honey, fare thee well.” _ The words echo endlessly inside of her.

When he’s done, he thanks the crowd again, smiling softly at the people in the front row.

He looks up, then, all the way, and sees Rey staring at him. Her mouth is slightly open, and she knows there’s a tear on her face, one she hasn’t brought herself to wipe away. She breaks the eye contact to throw her towel down on the counter, and unties her apron. She walks to the swinging door that will let her out onto the floor.

By the time she comes around, he’s gone from the stage, gone from the shop. Gone from her life.

***

It’s her last night shift, and Rey had stayed in bed all day, until half an hour before she had to go in.

Despite being in bed all day, she hasn’t slept for what feels like weeks. She’d dragged her hair back into a high ponytail, and pulled on yesterday’s (and the day before, and the day that’s) jeans. Rey stares at herself in the mirror, and takes a deep breath, willing herself not to be so silly as to cry over a man she’d mostly been annoyed with for the better part of two months, because he’d finally done what she wanted and relented in his teasing flirtation.

***

Around 8:00, Poe Dameron walks in with Bee in tow, and Rey tries not to drop the stack of mugs she’s putting into place.

“Hello,” she squeaks when he reaches the cashier.

“Hi, Rey.” His smile is soft and kind. He takes a seat at the counter and folds his arms in front of his body.

“Change your mind about playing tonight?” She asks. His name wasn’t on the sign-up sheet, but she’s sure every living person in this bar would make an exception to the rules for him.

“Nah, sweetheart,” he shakes his head. Rey realizes that he’s the only person who’s ever called her that and didn’t inspire intense discomfort. It makes her feel … girly. She doesn’t hate it.

Rey smiles at him in what she hopes and prays is an encouraging way. “Well, that’s a shame,” she says. She means it. “You were very popular. There’s been talk of a rebellion.”

“Really now?” He tilts his head and smiles at her. “Well, I hope for your sake it won’t come to that. Rebellions sound awfully messy to clean up.” Rey laughs and looks away when a customer comes up to the cash register. They just want a water, which she hands them for free, not wanting to be away from the conversation a minute longer than she has to. She waves away the person’s thanks and turns back to Poe.

He’s looking near her, but not at her. And it’s driving her up the wall.

“So, you aren’t playing music tonight. What do you do when you aren’t being a musician?” She asks, curious.

Poe grins at her and it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Musician. That’s kind of you to say about a guy with a guitar who’s probably been pissing you off for two months.”

Oh, that sad look on his face just won’t do. Rey wants to do damage control, somehow, which is absurd because he  _ has  _ been pissing her off for two months. “I think you have the nicest voice I’ve ever heard,” she blurts out. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Just take your shirt off for the guy next time, Rey, save yourself some embarrassment.

“Well then,” he chuckles and bites his lip. Rey tries very hard not to let her eyes linger on his mouth. “Aren’t you something, sweetheart.”

“So, when you aren’t playing music…?” She trails off, hoping that he’ll answer the earlier question and forget her mortifying compliment.

His shoulders tense. “I was a major in the Air Force,” he says quietly, running his finger around the edge of his cup slowly, delicately. Rey tries not to get distracted by his hands, or his use of past tense.

“A major? Aren’t you a little young?”

His eyes crinkle around the corner when he regards her smilingly. “Not that young. I’m almost 32.”

Rey purses her lips and nods. Poe looks sad, again, so she says, “I’m almost 24. I’m finishing my Master’s right now!”

The man exhales, eyebrows near his hairline. “Oh, thank God,” he mutters so quietly Rey doesn’t think she was supposed to hear.

“Thank God, what?” She asks.

“The other day when you said you were ‘younger.’ I mean, it’s obvious that I’m older than you, but it made me real worried you were  _ young _ young,” he admits sheepishly, examining the contents of his mug. “I’d feel like a real asshole, if you were 19 or something.” He shivers. “I still feel like an asshole, though.”

“It’s okay, Mr. Dameron.” She smiles at him, hoping he’ll look up, as it isn’t even a retail-employee smile. “Oh shit, sorry! Major Dameron.” At the sound of his rank, he raises his eyes to her face and Rey feels her skin catch on fire by what she sees there. It’s her turn to shiver.

“That’s…” he breathes out, and then catches his bottom lip between his teeth. “That’s dangerous territory, Rey.” Judging by the look in his eyes, it’s the kind of danger Rey wouldn’t mind. She’s always liked a little bit of edge, after all.

He shakes his head. “Christ, I’m so bad at this. I’m sorry.” Poe’s bright red and she swears he squirms on the stool. “Listen, Rey, I don’t even know your name. I’ve been hitting on you from across a bar for almost two months now, and I haven’t had a full name to give my dad before he yells at me over the phone for not having enough  _ cajones  _ to talk to a pretty girl.” He’s told his dad about her? He’s probably joking, but Rey’s stuck on a different detail—

“You actually think I’m pretty?” Rey’s been on shift for almost five hours now, and she feels the baby hairs around her forehead sticking up from the humidity of the machines. There’s a solid chance she’s wearing more coffee than most people in this place have drank today, and she didn’t even comb her hair before pulling it up into a ponytail.

“Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” Poe says it so solemnly, it might as well be an oath.

“I’m Rey Niima,” she says, taking pity on him and changing the subject at the same time. “Pleased to meet you, Major Dameron.” She holds out her hand over the counter, glad that no one’s needed to order anything for the last five minutes, as she’s been way too involved in this conversation.

Poe takes her hand, and just like she had last week when he’d intervened with Mr. Ren, she admires the hard calluses juxtaposed with the electrifyingly warm skin of his palms.

They shake hands for probably longer than is socially decent. Poe lets go first, and Rey leaves her hand on the counter between them. She’s really, really glad no one’s needed to order anything. She feels like they’re in a small, golden bubble, one that’s simultaneously expanding in her own chest. This is the only time she’s ever felt something like this, and she’d like it to stay for as long as possible, which only makes her more nervous, more aware of her deeply ingrained ability to fuck things up.

Poe leans down to scoot Bee further under his stool, out of the way of the crowd. Rey’s casting about for something to say, hoping foolishly to prolong this conversation when every self-preservation instinct she has is screaming at her to abort, to get out now before she makes him realize how weird she is, when Poe talks first.

“Niima. That’s an interesting name.”

“Not really,” she shrugs. How honest should she be? “It’s where I was found.”

“Found?” His brow furrows, not understanding.

Fuck it. Rey’s feeling braver than normal, and she manages to look him in the eyes when she says, “Niima Outpost, the hottest place in Arizona. They found me outside the fire station there. My parents left me for them to find. Although I’m not sure if sanctuary laws apply when it’s over 100 degrees.”

“How old were you?” The question is soft, but without pity.

“About a year old. I wasn’t in great shape, so it’s probably for the best that they gave me back to the desert.” She runs the towel through her hands nervously. “I spent the rest of my childhood in the foster system.” She leaves out the petty crime she got into, the fights, the aching loneliness, and the abusive monster who’d dominated her life from ages ten to eighteen. This is heavy enough. “I needed a name for forms, so they put down Niima. It’s fine, I guess. If I ever go for my PhD, I’ll probably change it, so I won’t have to hear “Dr. Niima.” That’d just be depressing.”

“But you’re getting your Master’s,” Poe prompts. “That’s exciting. What in?”

“Horticulture,” she says, cheering despite herself. This is easier territory, and while Poe can be an awkward person, he still seems adept at reading her body language, and at knowing when to redirect the conversation.

“Horticulture? That’s plant science, right? What do you want to do with that?” He sounds genuinely interested.

Rey nods, feeling shy. No one ever really asks her about school, except for Finn and Rose, and they live with her. “Yeah, I uh. I really want to improve staple crop water retention, so they’re more resistant to drought.” She really hopes she isn’t boring him. His expression is inscrutable. “One of my foster parents was a farmer. He was really sweet, and he showed me a lot about gardening.” She had loved playing in the dirt, and was thrilled that she’d found a father figure who encouraged her to get as muddy as possible. She smiles, tightly. Ben Kenobi had died when she was ten, which is when she was sent to Unkar.

“Anyway, he figured out a way to get the most moisture out of the ground by cross-breeding plants with the most resilient roots. It was really cool, and it made me realize that people don’t have to give in to what nature wants. That sometimes, you can make it better for yourself, and for other people. Take control. That’s what I want to do. Help people, farmers, take control of their lives a little more. Be freer, you know?” She peters off, face burning. It’s the longest speech she’s ever made, and it’s almost as involved as her application essay to NC State.

“Damn,” Poe breathes. Rey quirks an eyebrow at him. “Sorry, I’m just regretting the last two months of my life where I sang shitty covers of indie music into a microphone, trying to impress the scary hot barista when I should have just been sitting here talking to Rey Niima, scientist and impressive human being.” 

Rey’s insides must be rearranging themselves. She’s never felt so vulnerable. She bites the inside of her cheek, briefly, before responding in a voice that’s much braver than she feels, “Well, you’re here now. That counts for something.”

“Does it?” The look on his face is hopeful.

“Most people don’t stick around, as far as I’m concerned,” she shrugs. There’s been too much therapy in the last five years for her to deny that, and how much that hurts. “And you’re still here. So yeah. That counts for something.” Poe’s smile is warmer than the desert sun. “Counts for everything,” she clarifies, voice softer than she’s ever heard it.

Poe reaches his hand out again, and opens his mouth, but a voice from the other end of the counter says, “Miss? Can I order a chai latte?”

“Coming,” Rey calls. She smiles apologetically at Poe, and turns to ring up the order.

The girl who ordered must have been some sort of trendsetter because Rey spends the next thirty minutes making increasingly complicated drinks.

Halfway through remaking a cappuccino for some mouth-breathing undergrad who didn’t like the taste of the foam in his  _ fucking soy milk cappuccino,  _ Rey looks up over the counter.

Poe Dameron is still sitting there, looking completely natural, looking unconcerned, unrushed. Waiting for her.

She likes the way he looks, waiting for her.

***

The next week, she’s back on day shift. Finn strides into the shop, arms open wide.

“Rey!” he shouts. “I’ve got something to show you.”

“Fuck you,” she says, rolling her eyes. “No more dares from you, Trooper.”

“Not a dare,” he raises his hands in mock-surrender when she scowls at him. “Just, come on out here.”

“I’m working, Finn,” she tells him peevishly.

“Trust me, Rose would be fine with this. I’ll even cover for you.”

Rey won’t turn that offer down. It’s a nice day out, after all. “Okay, but I don’t trust you.”

“I’m wounded, Niima. Absolutely wounded.” He places a broad hand over his heart and giggles when she snaps her apron at his ass on her way to the door. She tosses the item over her shoulder at him before stepping out into the sun.

Rey blinks at the sudden brightness and covers her eyes with her hand, looking around for what Finn was talking about.

And then she sees him.

Poe Dameron is shuffling his feet next to the largest succulent she’s seen outside of a greenhouse.

“Before you say anything,” he tells her nervously. “I used the money from tips I got after harassing you through a microphone, and I needed to apologize with something so—”

Rey raises her hand to stop his rambling and he shuts up immediately. She walks over and does a lap around the potted plant. It’s about three feet tall with pretty flowers, and Bee is eyeing it distrustfully from Poe’s side.

“I asked the guy at the garden store about it, and he said it was a…”

“ _ Adenium obesum, _ ” Rey finishes. She looks up at him, and finds Poe’s eyes already on her face.

“The guy at the store called it a desert rose,” he shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Seemed appropriate.” His face suggests that he hadn’t intended on saying that part out loud.

“Beautiful,” she comments, returning her attention to the plant, ears burning in shyness.

“Yeah,” he whispers. When Rey looks at him again, he’s staring at the ground, cheeks pink and hair tousled from where he’d clearly been pulling on it. Rey feels a wave of affection for this man, this man who can be so confident in front of fifty people, but suddenly fall apart when it was just them. No one’s ever given her something like this before. It’s all so… _ Poe.  _ And she knows what she needs to do.

“Major Dameron,” she says, still steadily looking at him.

He looks up and almost winces when he sees her staring, but he forces himself to stand up straight anyway. “Yes?”

“Will you go on a date with me?”

“Sweetheart, I didn’t buy this so you would go on a date with me. It’s an apology, an olive branch.” He nudges the gallon tub with his boot. “Well. A prickly branch.”

He’s the most awkward person she’s ever met, she’s pretty sure. Including herself. “I know, Major Dameron.” She tugs on his wrist, and when he looks up, she slides her fingers through his. “But would you  _ like _ to go on a date with me?”

The smile that breaks across his face is more beautiful than any sunrise she’s seen, in the desert or over the ocean.

“It’d be my genuine pleasure, ma’am.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next is the date and the semi-resolution to the Kylo Ren debacle ;)


	2. The Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey makes a surprising friend; Poe and Rey go on a date; there's a slight hiccup in the date; Poe and Rey snuggle (and maybe more?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: discussion of PTSD/references to being a prisoner of war, tags have been updated
> 
> (Poe is a veteran who has a fairly dark backstory, in keeping with his experience from TFA, but modernized)

 

Rey has her date with Poe tonight, and she’s about to clock out when Rose asks her to kindly remove the scruffy-looking drifter from the parking lot.

“You’re taller than I am,” is her shrugged excuse. “And I’ll wait in here in case I have to call the cops.”

Rey raises her eyebrows in disbelief.

“What?” Rose asks. “He doesn’t look dangerous, he’s just loitering.”

Rey rolls her eyes and marches to the door. “If I die before I get to go on a date with Poe, I’m haunting your ass,” she calls over her shoulder.

“Sounds fair!” is Rose’s cheerful response.

The “scruffy-looking drifter” turns out to be a 60-year-old man fussing over the engine of a beat-up van.

Rey clears her throat and says, “Excuse me sir, but you can’t park that hunk of junk here.”

The guy pops his heat out from underneath the hood. He’s wearing a grease-stained undershirt and a pair of reading glasses, and Rey notices a cute, shaggy dog panting from the open sliding door in the back. It all makes her feel slightly less like this is the bad opening of a _Criminal Minds_ episode.

“Well that’s sorta mean, sister,” he laughs and straightens up. Upon closer inspection, the man has the appearance of someone who was a real looker when he was younger, but has since had too much weird shit in his life to bother maintaining it. Rey decides she likes his lined face. “I’ll have you know that this _hunk of junk_ is the Millennium Falcon.”

Rey stares at him in blank confusion. “The what?”

“The Millennium Falcon,” he waves his hands, gesturing wildly at the van as if to clarify. “Made the Kessel Run in 14 minutes.”

“There’s no way you drove that thing down Kessel Run in 14 minutes. There are like, fifteen lights on that road.” She walks forward and looks under the hood. “Whoa. Is that a four-barrel carburetor? And did you build that intake manifold yourself?”

He claps her on the back, and it feels like something a dad would do. He grins at her. “It sure is, and I sure did. What’s your name, kid?”

“Rey,” she smiles back at him. “And yours?”

“I’m Han Solo,” Rey feels her stomach drop out. “What?” He looks concerned.

“Uh…you’re...Han Solo? The famous land developer?” She squeaks. “Your son – Kylo Ren” and why the _fuck_ he’d pick that name to go by professionally is still beyond her, “He…he owns this building?”

He snorts. “Like fuck he does. He doesn’t own shit, but his mom convinced me to let him run some properties while he's in between jobs.” He considers the building, briefly. “I forgot we bought this one.” Han looks at her face and must see how panicked she looks. The man seems concerned, suddenly. “Hey, kid. That punk isn’t giving you too much shit, right?”

She shrugs. And then feels mortified as understanding dawns across Han’s face.

“You work at that coffee shop?” She nods, miserably. “Shit. My kid said you were like, his girlfriend or something.”

Rey chokes, and Han looks furious. “Don’t tell me he’s being a little shithead creeper.” He shakes his head. “He gets that bullshit from his mom’s side, I swear.  My father-in-law was a real piece of work, too.”

Han considers her for a second. “You want it?’

“Want what?”

“The building, kid. You look like you’re a lot nicer than my son, and it sounds like I owe you for him being a piece of shit. So. You want the building? And maybe a restraining order?”

“You’d do that?”

“You seem alright. You like cars. And besides, I think Chewie likes you.” The large wolfhound huffs in agreement from the back of the van.

Rey stumbles back into the coffeeshop ten minutes later, after a bizarrely intense conversation about car engines, and an invite to dinner with Mr. Solo and Leia Organa — _the state senator, Leia Organa —_ next weekend.

When Rose asks her what happened, her only reaction is to hysterically laugh and hand Rose a piece of paper.

She heads into the back, still crying from laughter. It’s only made worse when she hears Rose screech, “What the fuck – is this a fucking – is this the _deed_ to this building?”

“Who you calling scruffy-looking now?” She asks between giggles.

***

Rey heads into the back to change, and when she comes out, Finn spits his water.

“No,” he says, wiping his chin. “Nuh uh.”

“What?” Rey’s baffled. She’s wearing her nicest pair of jeans and a t-shirt for her program, which proudly reads _NC State Raleigh Horticultural Sciences._ Rey had hoped it would inspire some more conversation about plants, which is something she can talk about for hours.

“Sorry, Rey, nope, not going to happen.” Finn shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Rose! I was right!” he calls into the office. “Operation: ‘She’s All That’ is a go!”

Rose bustles out, holding a garment bag. She almost screams when she sees Rey. “No, no, no! That won’t do. Come on!”

“I like this shirt,” Rey mutters bitterly.

“It’s a great shirt, honey,” Finn assures her. “Just not for when you’re trying to climb a ridiculously hot older pilot with dreamy eyes and a perfect ass.”

Rey cocks an eyebrow at him. “Aren’t you worried you’ll make Rose jealous?”

“Rey, he’s a total fucking hunk, I have eyes too,” Rose tells her, grabbing her by the elbow and dragging her to the office. “We both think you should climb that man, and never come down. And you aren’t getting out of wearing a dress that easily.”

Ten minutes later, Rey’s been zipped into a dark blue dress that Rose apparently borrowed off Connie, the blond, pretty part-time waitress, and has spluttered her way through an aggressive makeup application, also by Rose.

“It. Is. Finished,” Rose says dramatically, taking a photo on her phone and showing Rey. Rey begrudgingly admits that she looks better than normal. Her hair is a little hopeless, and has been stuck in two braids for over a day, but she had let Rose pin it into a sort of crown around her head, and the effect isn’t altogether awful. And Rose had even let her keep her flat, comfortable shoes, so she can run away from her date, if needed (she really doesn’t think she’ll need to, but a girl should always be prepared).

“It’s a girl,” Finn gasps, hand to his heart when she walks back out onto the floor.

“Oh, fuck you, you motherfu--” Rey’s cut short by the bell over the shop door ringing.

Poe’s standing there holding a small bunch of daisies. Rey can’t even remember who she was yelling at, let alone why. Poe looks even more handsome than normal, in a black and white checkered button down tucked into pants that are almost obscenely tight around his muscular thighs. Bee is behind him, and even he’s decked out for the occasion with a small bow tie clipped to his collar.

“What were you saying, Rey?” Rose teases her from behind the counter where she’s suddenly standing under Finn’s arm.

“Hi,” she says, ignoring them both. Poe’s easily the only person in the room now, as far as she’s concerned.

“Hey,” and he’s blushing again, because he’s impossibly cute and has clearly been sent to torture her for some unknown crime.

“You look nice,” she says, walking forward, hoping for a hug.

He kisses her on the cheek instead, and it’s her turn to blush. Rey can hear Rose and Finn say “Awwwww,” in tandem behind the counter and she doesn’t even spare them a glance when she flips them off behind her back.  

“These are for you,” he says, blinking once before offering her the flowers.

“They’re lovely,” Rey smiles. “Thank you.”

“I can put them in water for you!” Rose chirps, suddenly useful again.

They’re out the door five minutes later after talking with her absurdly smug friends, and Rey feels like they’re overbearing sitcom parents who try to take fifteen photos a second on prom night. Once they’re outside, Rey tries not to feel awkward when he asks if she minds him driving.

“I rode my bike here,” Rey shrugs. As if she could afford a car. “So unless you want to walk or Uber, your car’s fine.”

“Okay,” he gestures at a Honda CRV that’s parked in front of the shop. “This is me.” He’s unbelievably nervous, his speech almost stilted, and Rey tries to lighten the mood a little bit.

“Funny,” she says, poking him in the arm. “I would have thought you’d go for the Pilot.” Rey looks at the sky and prays for a random bolt of lightning to appear and strike her down, now. She sneaks a glance at Poe and smiles when she sees he’s struggling with silenced laughter. “Get it?” She asks soberly. “The Honda _Pilot_?”

Poe snorts then, and pokes her right back. “That was terrible,” he informs her.

“I know!” Rey says cheerfully, glad that she got him to laugh.

Poe steps in front of her and opens the passenger door. Rey stares at his fingers gripping the handle -- didn’t men only do this in movies? “You look really beautiful,” he tells her as she gets into the car.

 _It was all Rose,_ she wants to tell him. _It’s an illusion._ But the earnest, bashful look on his face stops her. “Thank you,” she says quietly. He smiles softly, and then closes the door. He opens the back door for Bee, who climbs in and is in the front seat on Rey’s lap before Poe can even get behind the wheel.

“Bee!” He scolds. “Sorry, he’s trained to sit there, but you can chuck him in the back if you want.”

“Major Dameron,” she says sternly. “I resent that suggestion.” Bee sits on her lap like a small orange king for the rest of the car ride.

Poe lets her pick the radio station on the way over, and Rey manages to make it five minutes, pretending to nod along to a brutally boring talk radio segment on the movement of silver in Asian markets, before she snorts at Poe’s expression.

“Oh my god,” she laughs. “Your face. You hate this.”

“No, no, no,” he insists, eyes trained on the road, hand clutching the wheel at two and ten. “This is fine! Whatever you want to listen to.”

“Well that’s too bad,” she says, crossing her ankles primly. “Because this is the most boring fucking thing I’ve ever heard. But if you like it,” she shrugs.

“You’re messing with me,” Poe gives her a half-smile, briefly turning his attention on her. Rey tries to smirk back, but her breath catches in her throat because it’s unfair, how pretty he is. “Jesus. Please change the channel, Ms. Niima.”

“Yes sir, Major Dameron,” she leans forward to fiddle with the controls, grinning up at him, and tries not to squeak when she watches his pupils dilate.

“Oh, this is a good one,” she says. She sings along with it, face burning as she looks out the window. Poe sings too, after several long seconds, and Rey closes her eyes against the roughened quality of his voice.

***

Things start to go badly when they get to the upscale restaurant. Rey feels like an impostor when they pull up, eyeing the classy front with unease. She’s definitely glad Rose and Finn demanded she dress up, but she doesn’t think she can really act the part to make it through an hour and a half in a very nice restaurant where a plate of food probably costs what she spends on a week’s worth of groceries.

Poe opens her door for her, again; she laughs through her nerves when he’s out of the car, jogging around to her side before she can even unbuckle her seatbelt.

She takes the arm he offers her, and they make pleasant small talk while they walk up to the hostess station out front.

“Reservation for two, under Dameron.”

“Very good sir, right this--” the hostess cuts off and looks down. “I’m sorry sir, but we don’t allow dogs on premises.” Rey can almost feel the embarrassed flush coming from Poe, which is what makes her defensive, which is what makes her say:

“He’s a therapy dog, ma’am, I’m sure you can make an exception.”

Poe stiffens next to her, and Rey remembers. She remembers that he never actually told her Bee was a therapeutical service animal, and now she’s probably overstepped. She definitely has; she feels his arm pull away from hers. Poe walks away from the restaurant, Bee on his heels but casting a strangely worried glance over his orange shoulder at Rey. Poe’s neck is bright red.

“Sorry,” she tells the hostess, who looks deeply apologetic for having offended him. “Excuse us, sorry.”

She runs after Poe down the sidewalk - turns out she’d need to run on this date after all on - and catches up with him quickly. He’s still walking, fast, and doesn’t slow down or stop when she slows down to walk next to Bee, behind him.

“Poe!” He doesn’t turn around. “Poe, look, I’m sorry, I should have let you talk for yourself, I’m sorry, I just get really defensive sometimes, and I’m sorry, Poe, please look at me,” and it’s like she’s ten years old again, hopeless and alone with no one coming to get her. Rey trips to a stop, and takes a shuddering breath against her own anxiety. It’s that ragged sound that makes Poe turn around.

“How long,” he whispers. Poe looks like he’s close to collapsing inwards under an unbearable weight.

“How long what?” Rey asks in confusion.

“How long have you known?” Rey’s trying to remember when she theorized Bee’s real job, when he continues, voice harsh with anger. “Did you google my name? Have you known since the first day?”

“What?” The bottom of her stomach drops out, and the sun is too hot on her neck. Luckily there’s no one else on the sidewalk, but she takes his arm, trying to pull him out of the way, somewhere more private, but he tenses, and she lets him go immediately.

“Did someone tell you?” Poe’s eyes look decades older. “Did you only ask me on a date because you felt bad for me?”

“I asked you on a date because I like you,” Rey says, too concerned to be embarrassed. “And I promise, I swear, I have no idea what you’re talking about, Poe.”

“You mean you have no idea that Bee is an animal trained to work with PTSD? Specifically my PTSD? ” Poe laughs, and it’s the first time his mouth has made an ugly sound. Rey stands her ground and tries not to flinch. She doesn’t think his anger is actually directed at her. She hopes not. “You didn’t take the five seconds it would require to search my name, and find the hundreds of articles about _why_ I left the Air Force?” He cuts himself off, and looks incredibly ill.

“I didn’t,” Rey wonders if she looks as mortified as she feels, “Poe, I wouldn’t.” She catches his hand and threads her fingers through his, praying he won’t pull away again. Rey hopes he’ll start reaching for her sometimes because this is so far out of her comfort zone, when she risks rejection, when she opens herself up. But Poe looks wounded, still, and she wants to fix that. “I still have a flip phone, Poe,” she tries to laugh but it’s strangled. “I can’t afford a computer -- I have to bike to the campus library to complete my online assignments. I don’t really think googling the hot guy from the coffee shop on a public server is a good move.”

Poe bites his lip and nods. “Okay. Then how did you --” he gestures at Bee, who’s trying to nose his hand.

“Because of what he’s doing right now,” she explains. “I saw him do that one day.” Rey sighs, and gives Poe Dameron another piece of herself, an anomaly that’s becoming habit where he's concerned. “My foster father, the good one that I told you about: he was a veteran. He was a pilot as well, for the Royal Air Force. I lived with him for seven years, it’s why I sort of have an accent.”

Rey coughs, trying to ignore the grief in her throat. Ben Kenobi died almost fourteen years ago, but she mourns the loss of him more than she ever did the loss of her biological parents. “He fought in World War II and then Korea. Ben was a kind, wonderful man who the world was very cruel to. Towards the end of his life, he had a dog who was trained to help him through anxiety attacks. His name was Arty.” How Rey had loved that dog, who’d been there for her lean on throughout the funeral. She had wailed when he was led away and had to be restrained by a social worker as she struggled to run to him. Wards of the state aren’t allowed to keep pets, and besides, Arty was sent elsewhere to someone who needed him more than Rey. 

“When Ben was having trouble remembering where he was -- when he couldn’t remember that he was in Arizona and not overseas in the middle of horrible things fifty years in the past -- Arty would nudge him, in his palm,” she traces a circle in the warm palm of the work-roughened hand she’s holding, “and apparently the texture of his nose helped to ground him. I saw Bee do the same thing; between that and Rose not asking you to kindly remove your dog - she really doesn’t like dogs, by the way, one bit her when she was a kid - I figured he was some sort of service dog. I didn’t think anything else of it, I swear.”

Rey finishes her speech, and drops his hand, feeling adrift. She kicks her foot awkwardly.

“I’m sorry,” Poe whispers. She manages to look up at him and frowns when she sees his expression. He looks miserable, and there are tears in his eyes.

“Don’t be sorry, Major Dameron,” she says, rubbing her elbow. “I heard that first dates were supposed to be awkward. And I’m a human disaster, so it’s honestly just par for the course that I made this one go so poorly.”

“Don’t say that, sweetheart,” Poe says harshly. He swallows, clearly trying to calm himself. “God, how could you even think...in what universe would me being an asshole and yelling at you over a shitty misunderstanding be your fault?”

It’s vaguely amusing that he thinks morosely asking her when she figured out he had a therapy dog and PTSD constitutes as yelling, so she tells him that.

“You didn’t yell, Major,” she informs him, smiling kindly at this ridiculous man. “Trust me, I know the difference.” Poe flinches as if she’d struck him. _Right. Don’t add to his trauma with your own, Rey_.  “And I know it’s hard to act like yourself when something’s upsetting you. I know that very well.”

“I don’t deserve this,” he says. “I don’t deserve you.”

“I have a therapist who would reliably tell you that ‘deserving people’ is a shoddy philosophical concept that holds no bearing in the real world.” Rey smiles when she sees Poe start to. “I’m still working on believing it, myself.” She grabs his other hand and holds them both. “But I do believe that I like you. Depressing indie covers and all.”

Poe’s looking at her like she’s the sun, and she can’t hold his gaze for long. It feels too intimate, somehow, and while she can be brave enough to share some of herself in order to help him push through a bad moment, it’s still too scary to be vulnerable when the moment’s passed.

“I should probably tell you,” Poe looks like that’s the last thing he actually wants to do. “What I was talking about. Uh. I was medically discharged from the Force last winter. They gave me a Purple Heart and a couple of other medals for--for being a POW.” Poe looks exhausted just from those three sentences, and Rey squeezes his hands comfortingly.

“Thank you for telling me,” she says gently. “Really. But you don’t have to tell me all of it until you’re ready. I’ll be here when you are.” Poe nods, gratefully, swallowing whatever emotions are ripping through him.

“Want to go to dinner?” He asks, shuffling his feet and looking up at her through his dark, thick eyelashes.

“Yes,” she says. “But maybe not here.” Poe looks embarrassed, but she won’t let him talk down about himself, not again. She scrunches her nose for emphasis when she says, “I feel like they’d want me to use more than one fork, or, God forbid, a napkin. Want to eat at my place?”

She reminds herself to breathe when Poe looks at her in nothing short of breathtaking wonder.

“Yeah,” she sees the tan column his throat working around his answer. “I’d like that.”

***

Rey calls ahead for takeout, and she bossily dictates to Poe how to get to the apartment she shares with Rose and Finn near campus. He holds her left hand loosely over the gear shift, and Rey delights in the knowledge that he reached for her, this time.

Rey also remembers to text her roommates with her free hand.

[Rey, 5:41 p.m.]: _Bringing Poe over for dinner. Don’t ask questions. Just please give us two hours or so without bugging us._

[Rey, 5:42 p.m.] _I’ll clean the kitchen for a week._

[Finn Trooper, 5:43 p.m. ]: _Girl, we can give you all night if you want._

[Finn Trooper, 5:43 p.m.]: _This is your pilot speaking, please fasten your seatbelts because you're in for a bumpy ride ;P_

[Rey, 5:44 p.m.]: _Not that kind of pilot, Trooper. Also, Yikes._

[Rose Tico, 5:45 p.m.]: _Give me a better offer. I’ve seen how you clean the kitchen._

[Finn, 5:47 p.m.]: _Rose is kidding. We’re leaving now. Have fun, be safe._

There’s an obscene number of eggplant and rain emojis from both her friends (and how Rose had managed to download that many emojis into her crappy phone she’ll never know), and Rey feels her cheeks pinken from mortification. She didn’t invite Poe over for _that._ She really hopes he doesn’t think so.

She looks at him in the driver’s seat, singing along to an old James Taylor song while he absentmindedly strokes a thumb over her knuckles. Poe blushes when he feels her looking at him.

Rey smiles. No, he probably doesn’t think that.

***

They drag about ten pounds of greasy comfort food into the kitchen area, and Poe stops to look around. “Nice place,” he says, raising his eyebrows at the chore wheel.

“Rose made that,” Rey shrugs. “Apparently, Finn and I are godless heathens who were raised by wolves.”

“Yeah? Is that so?”

And there’s still something far too feral in her, far too angry for her sake and Finn’s, because she gives him a pointed smile that shows almost all her teeth. “No. We were raised by things far worse than wolves.”

Poe nods, solemnly, and begins to unpack the containers.

“Sorry,” Rey whispers. “You don’t need to hear about my shit.”

“You put up with my shit outside the restaurant,” he says. “Trust me, it’s fine.”

“I do,” she says after a moment. “Trust you, that is.” Poe stops moving and looks at her. They hold each other’s gaze, the formica countertop between them feeling like endless expanses of space.

“That’s good,” he says after a moment, breaking the spell. “I hope I deserve it.”

“I’m pretty sure you do,” Rey admits, moving to the cabinets so she can get plates.

And then she groans. All the dishes are dirty. “We live in shambles,” she announces. “Fuck it, let’s eat on the couch.”

“Like heathens,” Poe teases her. Rey resists the urge to kick his shin when she walks past him, clutching several to-go boxes. She sets them on the coffee table, and then runs to her room so she can change into a t-shirt and jeans (which is what she started the evening with, thanks, Rose) before coming back out to the living room where Poe’s waiting.

They spend an hour on the couch, sitting on opposite ends and talking about their favorite things. At one point, Rey demonstrates that she really _can_ catch any projectile food item in her mouth, and beams at him through a mouth of fried okra. “Tol’ you!” She declares.

“You really did, Sunshine,” he’s laughing as he feeds Bee a small piece of mac and cheese. “No more than that, little beggar,” he scolds the dog, although Bee’s too polite to ask. Rey thinks that it’s Poe telling himself not to give the dog more food. It’s charming, really, how he talks to his dog like he’s a person.

After they’ve packed away the food - and Poe has continually expressed his fascination with how much Rey can eat, “Really, sweetheart, that’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen, holy Christ, you have to show me how to do that one day” - they settle back down on the couch. Rey scoots closer to him, almost experimentally, until she’s right up next to his side.

Poe puts his arm around her, and she does an inner-celebration at the weight of it around her. It feels just as nice as she’d hoped.

“Want to watch something?” She asks, tilting her face up to see his response. He’s staring at her,  and Rey feels a kind of nervous she’s never felt before. It’s not entirely unpleasant, and it seems to hang between both of them.

Poe licks his bottom lip and her eyes go to it immediately, moth to a flame. “Yeah, we can watch something.” He says it so softly, she imagines she only actually felt the words, the air of them traveling the increasingly shorter distance from his mouth to her own.

“Or,” she says, helpless to the moment like it was gravity.

“Or,” Poe repeats, large hand moving slowly from his lap to her jaw. His arm is still behind her, drifting to wrap around her torso as he pulls her closer, into his chest. Rey closes her eyes against the feeling of his thumb stroking her face, and she involuntarily whimpers when it catches the corner of her mouth.

“Rey,” and no one’s ever said her name like that before, like it meant something, “Can I kiss you?”

She wants to cry. She’s been kissed before, once, and it was stolen by another foster kid who leaned in quickly during a moment of weakness. She didn’t want it, hadn’t liked it, and had broken his nose. Unkar locked her in the basement with no food for three days after seeing the hospital bill. Rey had always wished her first kiss looked something closer to a fairy tale, a kiss given by a handsome prince who wanted to take her away, to help her claim the life she always wanted, a prince who would wait for her and be kind where so many others had been cruel.

She wants to cry, because it seems more and more like she was wishing for someone just like Poe Dameron.

He’s waiting for her answer, and she forces herself to open her eyes so she can look into his. He looks back and forth between her eyes and her lips, but he’s waiting for her answer, and she likes him so much more for it. Yes, of course, he can kiss her. Of course he can.

She nods, and leans in at the same time he does. His mouth is warm against hers, and she enjoys the soft but dry texture of his lips. It’s sweet, chaste, and she feels like she’s something worth protecting when his hand skates along her jaw and tucks a piece of hair back behind her ear. Rey wants to giggle, but she realizes she wants more.

They break apart after several blissful seconds, and Poe grins, cheeks red. “Wow,” he laughs. “Wow.”

“Again?” Rey asks, hopefully.

“Yeah, again,” Poe’s still smiling when he leans in, eyes drifting shut, but Rey’s quicker. Acting on sheer instinct, she raises her hands and tangles her fingers in his hair -- soft, just like she’d imagined the first day she met him -- and surges forward, pressing her mouth into his with an enthusiasm she hopes makes up for her obvious lack of experience.

Judging by the growl that forms in Poe’s throat, it does. His mouth is open against hers, suddenly, open and hot and wet in a way that she wouldn’t think interested her, but here she is, mouth opening in response, accepting the passionate kiss with nothing short of intense eagerness.

Poe explores her mouth thoroughly, both hands on her face, and Rey releases her grip on his hair to grab at his wrists. After what she thinks are several minutes, but could be several hours, of kissing, she breaks away, gasping for air. Poe laughs against the corner of her mouth, and drops a kiss there. And then he kisses her jaw, and then underneath her jaw, and then his lips are on her neck, and Rey had never known that _that_ was something she would want, either, but now it’s all she can think about.

“Yes,” she gasps, hand in his hair once more. “Poe.”

“Love it when you say my name,” he groans, and Rey shudders at the vibration of his voice against her throat, and realizes that she’s instinctively leaning back, and Poe’s following her, on his knees, and then hovering over her. He presses her into the couch cushions, and his weight is comforting, not oppressive. He resumes kissing her, and she likes the feeling of his tongue running, hot and pointed, along her bottom lip. Poe’s asking to be let in, and she’s all too happy to oblige. She knows that she’s squeaking in a way that she could consider embarrassing, but the heat in her body is screaming for _more,_ and Rey feels a warm, calloused hand catch on the hem of her shirt, clearly waiting for permission.

The part of her with common sense -- which the raging, awakened animal part of her tries to silence to no avail -- tells her that this is too fast, and she’s not thinking about how she’ll feel tomorrow when she lets a man who isn’t really a stranger but is very new to her life fuck her into the common area couch. Rey listens to the voice.

“I’m a virgin,” she blurts out. And _God bless Poe Dameron_ because he stops immediately but doesn’t pull all the way off of her. She thinks the loss of his warmth right now might actually kill her. “Sorry. It’s just. I’m a virgin, and it’s not that I don’t want to do this, I do, I really do--”

Poe kisses her sweetly, and then pivots so he’s against the back of the couch, still touching her but no longer hovering over her. “Okay,” and he sounds winded. “Okay, thank you for telling me before it got too far.”

“Sorry,” Rey covers her face with her hands. “Sorry, it’s just I haven’t done this before. I barely survived the foster system, and it was best to just keep to yourself, not draw any unwanted attention. And after that I was on scholarship and I didn’t want to be distracted.”

Poe nods, “That makes sense, sweetheart.”

Rey clearly has been infected with some brain-eating virus, because she _keeps talking,_ which she never does. She’s never been a nervous talker. “Also, I’ve never wanted someone until I met you.”

The look in his eyes is heady. “Never?”

Rey shakes her head. “My therapist said it’s not weird.” _Demisexuality_ was what Maz had called it. Rey wriggles under his gaze, trying to regain some more of the contact from earlier as she turns to face him.“It’s where you only want to have sex if you have feelings for a person.”

“You have feelings for me?” His smile isn’t self-satisfied. It’s radiant. Poe kisses her sloppily, and then moves to her neck, sucking on a point right above her shoulder that has her seeing stars.

“Yes,” she gasps. Rey shudders slightly at the increased pressure on her neck after her confirmation, and she feels obligated to try to regain some sort of control in this situation; so, she manages to say, "You dork."

“Sorry,” he’s still grinning when he lifts his head away from her tender skin, his thumb going to rub soothing circles over the slightly-stinging spot his mouth had created. “But you should know. I’m crazy about you, Rey. God, you’re all I can think about.” He kisses her again, tongue probing for entrance, and she relents. He makes her feel so, so soft, makes her feel open and exposed in a way that she’d always thought would be scary.

She feels safe. “I trust you,” she whispers after they break apart. She told him back in the kitchen, an hour ago, but she wants him to know she means it.“I trust you, Poe Dameron.”

Poe’s eyes light up as he smiles at her. “I will do everything in my power to make sure I earn that trust,” he promises her.

“Just don’t sing any more sad indie covers,” she jokes, trying to ease the burning tension between them. “At least throw a Beatles song in there.”

“Eleanor Rigby?” He suggests, mock-serious.

“Jesus.”

***

They end up watching _Seinfeld_ reruns- his favorite character is Elaine, hers is George- Rey lying with her back to Poe’s chest. She’s pretty sure it’s called spooning, which is a ridiculous name, but she really likes it. She likes feeling his body pressed against her, his strong arm a comfortable weight around her waist. She likes the feeling of his warm breath on her neck, blowing in soft puffs through the baby hairs that have escaped her braids. She feels safe, and warm, and happy. So she falls asleep.

She wakes up, groggy, around midnight and wonders what dragged her out of an incredibly pleasant dream where she was swimming in the ocean with a man she’s pretty sure was Poe.

The man in question is still asleep behind her, and she tries not to disturb him as she shuffles around to peek at the door over the back of the couch.

Rose is poking Finn in the stomach, hissing at him while Finn holds out a hand with a very smug smirk on his face.

“I am _not_ paying up! No! That does not count as _sleeping together_! They’re literally asleep, with all their clothes on!”

Finn shakes his head, gleefully. “Semantics, Tico!” he whisper-shouts. “Pay up!”

“No! This whole thing was my idea in the first place. You wouldn’t have even thought of the conditions for that dare if I hadn’t suggested it! I’ve been waiting for them to meet for months! Months! You were a means to an end, Finn!  A cog in the machine of my plan!”

Oh. Rey’s going to _murder_ her later. But, she’s still pleasantly warm and happy with Poe’s arm around her, so she settles back down and watches as Finn tells his girlfriend, “Yeah, yeah,” and then hoists her into the air over his shoulder, striding back to their room with Rose in tow.

She smiles at the sound of their distant giggles before the door shuts quietly.

Poe breathes deeply in sleep, and she smiles at how peaceful his face looks. Rey dares to swoop in for a kiss, and barely feels guilty when his eyes open.

“Hey there, Sunshine,” he laughs. “Sorry, was I snoring?”

“Like a foghorn,” she lies. Poe smiles sleepily and ducks in to kiss her.

“Sorry,” he shrugs with one shoulder. “Guess I should leave, huh? It’s pretty late.”

“It is,” Rey agrees. “But you can stay.” She blushes as she tries to figure out how to make it sound less like a proposition when she suggests, “We could sleep in my bed, though.”

Poe smiles at her and nods. “Okay, if you’re sure.” She sits up so he can too. Poe stretches, his button down wrinkled from sleep, and Rey takes his hand when she stands up. “My room’s the open door,” she says, pointing with her head. “Think you can make it that far, Dameron?”

“Is that a challenge?” He looks more awake now. “Because I accept.” Rey tries not to shriek when he suddenly scoops her up into his arms, one arm underneath her knees and the other around her waist.

Poe carries them into her room, and lays her down on the bed. Rey’s slightly embarrassed because he’s the first not-Finn boy who’s seen her room, but he doesn’t even look around.

“That wore me out,” he admits, collapsing on the bed next to her. “I’m getting weak in my old age.”

“Maybe,” Rey teases him, pulling him closer to her by the lapels of his shirt. “But at least you’re still cute.”

He laughs into the kiss she initiates. “Goodnight, Sunshine,” he says, closing his eyes again.

“Goodnight, Poe.”

She doesn’t know who falls asleep first, but she knows that she's so far gone on Poe Dameron, she might as well be in a different, far away galaxy.

She also knows that there are worse things that have come from working the night shift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! 
> 
> I have so much more of this universe written--
> 
> Would you like to see a third part to this story that's Poe POV? (And where it slightly fleshes out his backstory and his obviously intense feelings for Rey? Hmmmm?)
> 
>  
> 
> (also some of the parts of this universe are EXPLICIT and I mean straight up R-rated/NC-17 so that would have to be an entirely separate fic....if you're interested. Idk.)


	3. The Sun Rose in Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't stay away from the angst for long (Check out chapter notes for details/warnings)
> 
> Poe's POV the morning after their date; Poe goes to therapy; Poe visits the coffee shop; Poe gets an upsetting phone call from Rey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so there's way more angst in this chapter.  
> Some warnings include:  
> Poe references his experience with torture frequently/attends therapy/is on medication/has a LOT of negative self-talk, harmful inner monologue. Poe's inner monologue is a lot of run-on sentences/ he has a couple panic attacks.
> 
> also Rey gets pretty hammered and is in a mildly dangerous position as a result of it

When Poe cracks his eyes open the next day, he’s confused at the amount of green around him: green blanket, green wall, green plants lining the window sill, small green rug on the floor.

 _That’s weird,_ he thinks for a second because his brain is still slow catching up sometimes, especially when he’s slept for – he checks his watch: 0600 – well fuck, he actually managed to sleep for almost seven hours. Then he remembers how he fell asleep.

He’s upright in seconds, rubbing his head in panicked confusion. Bee whines at him from the foot of the bed – and oh shit, this is _Rey from the coffee shop’s bed,_ this is _Rey’s,_ he slept next to _Rey Niima_ – and he remembers that it’s probably been a solid eight hours since Bee’s been outside and he should probably do something about that.

The sun isn’t up yet, and Poe is achingly hard for reasons he doesn’t want to think about because this isn’t his bed, this is the bed of the girl he’s a total idiot over, and he needs to walk his dog and _wow_ his breath tastes like ass.

But Rey isn’t here, and he realizes she might have just been polite, offering him the bed, and oh fuck, what if she left and fell asleep on the couch. Worse, what if he’d had a nightmare and isn’t remembering it, and she’d heard him screaming, saw him thrashing, and it woke her up, and how is he ever going to ever going to walk back from that? How is he ever going to convince her that sure, he might not _really_ be the sexy, charming guy from Open Mic who can sing in front of large crowds and get the girl and then _know what to fucking do with her,_ but he's trying to be. How is he going to convince her that he isn’t that guy right now, but he’s re-learning how to be, and Jesus, he clearly fucked up and –

The door opens, and Rey Niima’s standing, backlit by the hallway light. She looks like an angel, and it’s only half because she’s holding a cup of coffee.

“Good morning,” she smiles at him, and it’s a repeat of the first day all over again, when she’d smiled at him over the counter, and he felt certain cracks in himself, ones he assumed were there permanently, start to seal up. One smile from Rey Niima was worth more than five sessions at his therapist, and maybe that’s not healthy, but fuck he’s always been a romantic.

“Morning,” he croaks. Poe desperately wills some moisture to his mouth. _Come on, Dameron, she’s a girl, you can talk to girls._ He was really good at talking, once upon a time. He was really good at talking to people, whether it was flirtation, seduction, charm, or even just conversation.

To be fair (and he reminds himself to be fair, if only so he can tell his therapist that he fucking tried to re-negotiate a bad line of thinking), he isn’t bad at talking, really. He hadn’t really tried his hand at anything past basic flirtation since he got back from Afghanistan, but it had been met with moderate success. He was sure he was doing just fine, yep, right on track to being confident again, and then he’d walked into the Resistance one day, and there Rey was, serving coffee and reminding him that goddesses might actually be real, and they probably didn’t want to talk to him.

Maybe it’s not his brain that’s stopping him from being smart in front of Rey, he reasons. Maybe he would have been this thunderstruck if he’d met her _before._

He’s been quiet for too long, and Rey walks nervously into the room. Poe sees that she’s wearing different clothes from last night, a warmer shirt and leggings, and her hair is wet like she’s been in the shower.

“How long have you been awake?” He asks when she sits on the edge of the bed. Poe curls his legs towards his body and tries to take up the least amount of space possible, trying to convey that he understands if she doesn’t want to touch him, if she doesn’t want him taking up space in her life.

“I don’t know, maybe an hour?” Rey guesses. Her small hand trips over the bed covers and traces a path up his shin, still covered by blankets. _Jesus, she’s touching me,_ and it’s panicked joy this time. _She doesn’t hate me yet._ “You’re a heavy sleeper, Dameron.”

“I actually haven’t slept that long in almost a year,” Poe admits sheepishly. He feels his ears burn the second it’s out. _Why would she want to know that?_

Instead, she smiles, and it’s a benediction. “Well, I’m glad my lumpy mattress was of service,” she coos.

“I think it was more the company,” Poe says because he really can’t fucking help himself.

Rey blushes, and it lights up the adorable arrangement of freckles on her face. Poe thinks about the nightlight his dad got him when he was a kid, the one with rotating constellations that would project onto the ceiling. He spent hours watching it instead of sleeping, and when he dreamed, he would imagine the infinite galaxies stretching above his tiny planet, his tiny life. The constellations of her freckles are promising to invade his dreams in a welcome, pleasant way.

“I hope to be of service in the future,” she whispers, and Poe wants to hear her say it, again, wants to make sure he didn’t just imagine her saying it. Rey clears her throat before he can ask, and she hands him the cup of coffee. “Here. I figured you’d require your caffeine fix,” she teases him, and the tension between them eases.

Poe takes the mug and drinks deeply. He’d always needed coffee the second he woke up if he was going to be halfway useful, even when he was in the service and would have to be up long before now anyway. Bless Rey. Bless her and her tiny hands and her perfect smile and her amazing coffee.

“I’m guessing you already drank your pot for the day,” he jokes, smiling at her. Rey snorts.

“Actually, I hate coffee.”

Poe stares at her. _That’s why she’s so ethereal,_ the weirder part of his brain whispers. _She might actually be from another planet._ “You don’t –” He can’t even formulate the thought.

“I know, I know, I make and serve coffee all day, and I hate it,” she laughs. “I don’t really like caffeine in general, it makes me too jittery.” Poe examines Rey in a fresh light as she speaks. How the fuck – how does she look so _awake?_ Her skin is glowing, her eyes are wide and, Christ he sounds like a Nicholas Sparks novel, but seriously her eyes are _sparkling_ with some inner light that he can only hope will begin to touch his own life.

“Rey,” he says solemnly, leaning over to put the mug on a small dresser near the bed. He takes her hand, and looks into her eyes. He can see her squirm, and a very large part of him wants to explore that, but he needs to ask this. “Rey, are you a _morning person_?”

Rey scoots closer and leans in so she’s very close to his face. “The legends are true, Poe,” she whispers. “All of it. We do exist.”

Poe shudders and places a hand over his heart. “Knew it.” And Rey’s laughing, and then she’s kissing him. Poe Dameron doesn’t know when his life started to trend in the upwards direction, but he imagines it all goes back to the Wednesday where he tried to hit on a barista who didn’t put up with his shit for a second, and who had awakened something in him he thought had died in the desert over a year ago.

***

Poe goes to therapy the next Tuesday with Dr. Mothma, who looks like a kind old grandmother, but is really a tough, old military psychiatrist who puts up with little to none of his shit.

“You seem more relaxed today,” she comments. Poe knows it’s true; his usually bouncing leg is still, his foot flat on the ground.

“I am,” he shrugs. “I went on a date. It didn’t end badly.” He doesn't let himself think  _how sad that you used to go on three dates a week with three different people and now one date with the girl you've had a crush on for months is the highlight of your year._ He doesn't let himself think it, because Rey at the very least is worth more than that.

Mothma smiles at him, a rarity. “With the girl from the coffee shop?”

Poe nods. “Yeah, she asked me out.” He snorts. “And you were right, I should have just talked to her. Turns out she wasn’t the biggest fan of the musical performances.”

“I’m shocked,” Mothma says drily. “But, you said it didn’t end badly. Were you expecting it to?”

Poe rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “Well, turns out she already knew Bee was a therapy dog.” Mothma had tried to coach him through various situations where she pretended to be Rey, creating simulated conversations where she expressed a variety of reactions to finding out Poe’s status as a POW. Poe had found those nerve-wracking enough, and Mothma was almost seventy years old, for Christ’s sake, and looked nothing like the sweet, pretty girl he’d been pining over.

“And?” Mothma’s looking at him, brow arched, definitely aware that his mind had been getting away from him. _Running in circles,_ she told him once. _The best thing to do when you’re stuck in a rut like that is to just stand still, assess, and breathe._ So Poe takes a deep breath and keeps going.

“And she just sort of mentioned it like it was casual knowledge, so of course I freaked out and accused her of researching me, and I tried to run away, but she wouldn’t let me.” _Please look at me._ It had been her heartbroken voice that made him turn around, even when he was so sure she’d be laughing at him, or pitying him, or hating him.

“Wouldn’t let you sabotage your date?” Mothma clarifies. “Good.”

Poe nods. “Yeah, and then we ate dinner at her place, and” he looks at the ceiling as he says this, “and we didn’t have sex,” and Rey probably thinks it’s because of what she told him, but it’s also definitely because of all the things he hasn’t told her, “but I fell asleep next to her.”

“Oh,” Mothma looks pleasantly surprised, and he counts that as a good thing. “That’s a large display of trust, Major Dameron. You should be proud of yourself.”

“I had nothing to do with it,” he laughs. “It’s all her. She’s – she’s like no one I’ve ever met. I just wish I knew her before…” he gestures at his body hopelessly. Mothma knows exactly what he means. They’ve been over it many times.

“You know her now, Poe,” Mothma reminds him gently. “You know her now, and it sounds like she likes you for who you are now.”

“Yeah, but what if – what if she realizes that I’m faking this, this whole being a person.” Poe hates himself for saying it out loud, but it’s true.

“You’re not allowed to say that sort of thing without me yelling at you, Major, you know that.” Mothma regards him, and her eyes flick to Bee, who’s sitting calmly at Poe’s feet. “I speak to you once a week, and I have for the last eight months. I would have noticed if you were faking anything. You’re still Poe Dameron. You’re still the man you were.”

“She makes me feel like I could be,” he admits, looking at his interlocked fingers.

“How else does she make you feel?” Mothma asks.

 _Trustworthy_. That’s a good starting place. _I trust you,_ she’d told him, and he’d known instinctually that she didn’t have a lot of reason to say that sentence in the past. He wanted to curl himself around her, to rip himself open and show her how much he wanted to be trustworthy again, more like a guy who could save the day, and not a guy who lost himself piece by piece while his friends died in front of him.

“The first time I saw her,” Poe bites his lip. “It was … it was like what my dad told me about. When he met my mom. I looked at her and I just knew, you know? I knew that she was going to change my life. And it didn’t feel weird. It felt like…” It felt like a perfect landing, like the feeling he used to get walking in the front door of the house Kes built for Shara. It felt like home, and he’d felt so stupid, gaping at a girl who was probably just smiling at him like that because it was part of her job, and he’d felt so impossibly greedy, and so impossibly helpless to the desire to get her to smile like that again.

“Does it scare you?” Mothma asks, seemingly understanding where his mind had gone.

“Yeah,” Poe tugs on a loose thread from the couch cushion. “It really does. But,” he grins despite himself. “I sort of like it.” Poe Dameron has become intimately familiar with fear over the last year and a half of his life, which is how he knows.

He knows that the way he feels about Rey Niima is the good kind of scary.

***

It’s Friday morning, and Poe’s walking up to the coffee shop to try and see Rey so he can ask if she wants to go on their second date tonight. They’d been texting every day – no more than ten times a day because Rey had laughingly explained her shitty service plan – and Poe’s been treasuring that limited communication more than he does literally any material object in his possession: except his mother's ring, of course, which never leaves the chain around his neck with his dog tags. 

Bee senses his anxiety and whines softly, head-butting him before he opens the door. “Happy barks, buddy,” he reminds him. “We gotta make her think we’re cool.” Bee fixes him with a look, and it makes Poe laugh through his nerves. “Yeah, yeah, you’re cool. But she needs to think I am too.”

They walk in, and Poe sees that the morning rush has died down. There’s no sign of Rey, and it makes him even more nervous that she hadn’t responded to his final text last night, or his good morning text today. _Fuck, it’s like I’m in high school again._ He orders his drink from Rose, the funny manager who clearly ships him and Rey – and that honestly cheers him up, that her friends don’t think he’s an awful creep who should stay away from their darling roommate – and then goes to wait for his drink, and for Rey.

Rose laughs when he sees him standing nervously at the bar, trying to peer into the back. “She’s not working today,” she informs him. “But that’s cute.”

As far as he knows, Rey always works on Friday mornings. “I—I got worried when I didn’t hear back from her. Is she sick?” he asks, knowing that Rose doesn’t _owe_ him an answer, it’s just that Rey didn’t answer his text this morning – and come on, Dameron, you’ve been on one date with the girl, who doesn’t owe you a response either, God, when did he get so bad at this.

Rose smiles wider and slaps his coffee in front of him. “Oh, you’re fucked,” she comes out from behind the counter to wipe down table tops. “You’re _fucked_.”

He doesn’t argue because it’s true.

She takes mercy on him. “If she didn’t text you it’s only because she pulled an all-nighter,” Rose informs him, stopping briefly to smile at him reassuringly because Rose can tease but she’s obviously not unkind. “Rey’s up in the campus greenhouse; apparently some of her plants didn’t take to the weather change very well.” Poe had thought nothing of the frost last night, but it honestly was unseasonably cold in Raleigh.

“Are they okay? The plants?” He asks timidly because he isn’t sure what else to ask.

Rose frowns and begins to scrub under the counter. “I don’t think so,” she says. “Rey was really upset about it. A lot of her research went into those little guys.”

“Shit,” Poe says. “Will she be okay? Is there anything I can do for her?”

Rose eyes him appraisingly, arm slowing as she regards him. “Huh.” She looks at him like she can see right through him, and fuck if he isn’t terrified now. “You’re alright, Dameron.” Rose throws her towel into a bucket and walks away. “I had my hopes, but I’m glad to see I was right.”

Poe looks at her back as she moves to stack bags of coffee beans in the corner. “That doesn’t answer my question,” he reminds her in what he hopes is a polite voice.

Rose snorts. “Rey will do what Rey does best. She’ll lock herself in the greenhouse and fix everything with her weird, magic green thumb, but she’ll blame herself when it doesn’t go perfectly. And then she’ll probably eat her weight in pizza and cry while watching _Finding Neverland_ or some shit.” Rose smiles at him evilly. “I guess if you wanted to snuggle her somewhere in that process, that couldn’t hurt.”

Poe blushes so quickly and so fiercely, he’s surprised the entire coffee shop doesn’t go up in flames.

***

He gets a call from Rey around 2300 that night. Poe tries not to make fun of himself for how quickly he dives for the phone when he sees it light up with her name. He ends up knocking it off the couch, and he follows the damn thing to the floor.

 “Hey Sunshine,” he says, trying not to analyze the intense relief that pours through him, trying to ignore how he’s sprawled out on his ass on the groud.

“Poe?” Rey’s voice comes through, shaky and exhausted and _something’s wrong._ He’s on high alert quickly.

“Rey? Sweetheart, are you okay?” Poe pinches the top of his nose with his fingers, trying and failing to get a grip. His heart’s already thudding, and he’s hoping Bee will remember where he stashed the Xanax.

“Hi Poe,” she breathes. “Heeeeey.”

She’s drunk, that much is certain. Poe relaxes slightly and sits back against the couch. “Well, hello to you too,” he teases. “Sounds like you’re having a good time.”

Rey sniffs, and it cuts him to the core faster than anything. “Rey?”

“I never drink. I've never ever been drunk,” and Poe’s chest tightens briefly, remembering how little experience she has. “I didn’t wanna go out, but a couple of the other girls in my program said it would cheer me up,” she says, sighing. “I don’t feel very cheered—cheer—cheerful though.” Rey gets the right word eventually, and it’s impossibly charming.

“I heard about your plants, Sunshine.” Poe had thought about it for hours, actually, tormented himself with how he imagined her, forlorn, nursing a small potted friend back to health. Yeah, Rose Tico was right. He’s completely fucked. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” she sniffs again, and then giggles. “You’re sweet you know. Love the plant you give me. I named it Nine,” and she giggles again. “Because it’s my ninth succulent, and Finn haaaaaaates that he can’t sit on the balcony anymore.”

Poe laughs, his heart settling into a rhythm that isn’t quite settled – because everything about Rey makes his body react in some exaggerated way – but isn’t at the panic level of before. He loves the sound of her voice. He closes his eyes and imagines she’s sitting on the couch behind him, and he’s just about to ask if she wants him to come pick her up, maybe, and _God, what if she thinks that’s creepy_ when Rey says,

“They all left twenty minutes ago. And Rose and Finn are still on their date, so I didn’t have a ride home.”

“Rey, honey, why didn’t one of them give you a ride home?”

“They took an _Uber,_ ” and Rey says the word like it’s a curse word, “and that’s way too expensive. ‘Sides, there wasn’t room in the car for all of us, so I said I’d stay here. They were all way too drunk, though, so I was just being 'sponsible.”

Rey is definitely also way too drunk, but he decides not to call her on it. “So you’re just sitting at the bar alone?” He asks, standing up and starting to hunt for his keys. He’ll just get there and call her a cab, he reasons. He won’t even drive her home if she doesn’t want him to. He’ll just make sure she’s safe, and he’ll get to see her. Everyone wins.

“I’m not at the bar,” Rey says, her voice watery again. “I’m in the bathroom, sitting near the toilet.”

“Oh, sweetheart, are you sick?” Poe’s putting his shoes on, and now he’s thinking he’ll grab a water bottle from the fridge before he goes. Yeah, she’ll probably be dehydrated, she’s never been drunk before, and if she’s sick, she’ll definitely need water.

“No,” she sounds close to crying and her words begin to slightly slur from it. “No, I was alone at the bar, just wanted to feel a little better before I tried walking home,” and _that won’t do,_ Poe thinks, hopping around on one foot while he tries to slip his right shoe on one-handed, _she can’t walk home in the dark, Jesus,_ “and you’ll never believe who showed up.” He can hear something _thump_ in the background, and he assumes she’s rested her head on the wall. Poe waits for her to continue. “Like. Who shows up at The Cantina on a Friday fucking night wearing a goddamn three piece suit? An asshole would.”

“Rey,” Poe breaks in, “Who are you talking about?” She sounds so terribly upset, and he hates that he isn’t there right now.

“Kylo _fucking_ Ren showed up,” she sighs, and the thumping noise happens again. Poe's already tense, though. “He showed up with his shitty little lawyer friends or whatever, and he tried to, I don’t know, he tried to put me in a cab I think? And he wouldn’t stop grabbing my arm, so I freaked out and ran in here and I called you, and I’m sorry to bother you, but—” Her voice breaks at the end, bordering on hysterical.

“I’ll be right there,” he promises her. “Do you want me to stay on the line?”

“No,” She whispers. “You don’t even have to come here, I’m just being stupid, I can handle myself.”

“You don’t have to,” Poe tells her firmly. “Stay in the bathroom, sweetheart, I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Okay,” she sniffs again. “Okay.” Poe hangs up against his better judgment and yanks his jacket off the hook near the door. He’s holding it in his hand when he jumps down the stairs and walks quickly towards the parking lot, Bee close on his heels.

Rey doesn’t know, couldn’t know, but he knew Kylo Ren – Ben Solo – long before he saw him cornering her at the Resistance. She couldn’t possibly know that Ben was part of the First Order.

Rey couldn’t possibly know what that man’s capable of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (uh oh)
> 
>  
> 
> Spoiler, if you're worried:
> 
> (I have no intention of harming Rey.  
> Kylo Ren, though).


	4. Wild Horses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe gets to the bar where he sees Rey and, unfortunately, Kylo Ren; Kylo says some horrible things that inspires a surprising reaction from someone; Poe takes Rey home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning 1: we get some more of Poe's self-hate, as well as some background into his experience overseas. He references watching his friends die, and his torture.
> 
> Warning 2: Kylo says some really horrible, disgusting, derogatory things to Poe. He mocks him for having been captured/tortured, and he alludes to Poe's status as a POW as some sort of failure (I do not in any way endorse what Kylo says, this is just his shitty self saying horrible things to a veteran who deserves respect). He also says some fairly sexist things to Rey about her sex life.

Poe can’t think straight as he swings his car into a space near the Cantina. He can only think about Kylo Ren, about _Ben Solo_ touching Rey, getting in her personal space, and making her feel so uncomfortable she needed to hide in a bathroom stall.

Poe slams his door shut behind him and runs into the bar. He looks around quickly and then he sees him – smug asshole, and he really is wearing a three piece suit – sitting at the bar and talking to a red-haired man who looks like the entire bar smells more like a horse barn.

Kylo looks over and sees Poe in the entrance, and he has enough gall to smirk at him. It isn’t all that good for Poe’s mental state, but he grits his teeth and pushes through it. Ben’s a monster, he knows that much, but he’s a monster that he can ignore if it means he knows Rey is safe.

Without sparing another glance at the First Order’s favorite lackey, Poe walks through the bar to the bathrooms. He waits awkwardly outside the ladies’ room before two young women walk out holding hands.

“Uhm, hi,” Poe knows there’s going to be no good way to phrase this, so he goes for a half-truth that he wishes were a whole truth. “My girlfriend is in there, and she’s pretty upset. Could you tell her Poe is here?” The girls give him an identically distrustful look. “Please,” he sighs and tries to look as tired and lovestruck as he actually is. “She had a really bad day, and I just need to get her home.”

“Fine,” the shorter girl rolls her eyes and pushes the door behind her open. “Rey, honey,” and yeah, Rey made friends with strangers while wasted and upset because that’s how lovable she is. And the strangest part is, she seems to have no idea how easily she pulls people in. “Your boyfriend’s here.”

“Tell Kylo to –” and there’s a sad hiccup, “—to just go away. Tell him my actual boyfriend’s going to be here soon, and then he’s going to help me kick his ass.” The taller girl is giggling now.

“Rey,” Poe speaks through the opening in the door, willing himself to ignore how right it sounded when Rey called him her boyfriend. “Sunshine, it’s me. Let me take you home, sweetheart, so I can take care of you.” He steadfastly ignores the twin “awwwww’s” from his audience.

“Poe!” Rey tumbles out of a bathroom stall and towards the door. “My stars!” She adds a bizarre Southern accent to her voice while she walks towards him. Poe can’t stop the grin on his face as she trips the final few steps and falls into his arms. “Major Dameron, as I live and breathe,” Rey pretends to swoon, the back of her hand on her forehead. She’s drunk, and adorable. A dangerous combination.

“Why hello, Ms. Niima,” he greets her with mock-seriousness. “The cavalry’s arrived.”

He sets her upright and offers her his arm. They walk towards the entrance, and Poe’s so caught up in Rey so close to him, the way she smells, the way her laugh sounds, the way she quirks her nose at the end of questions, that he almost forgets why he’s here.

Ben Solo isn’t letting him forget anything, though.

“Major Poe Dameron,” his cold baritone rings out across from them. The bar gets quiet very quickly, but then the background hum picks back up again as patrons pretend to re-enter conversations in their attempt to eavesdrop.

“Mr. Solo,” Poe stiffens his spine before turning slightly, trying to keep Rey out of Ben’s line of sight.

“Mr. Solo?” Rey’s there anyway, though, ducking around to look between him and Ben. “Wait, you know each other?”

“Yeah, scavenger. We go way back,” Ben’s staring evenly at Poe, who fights to return the gaze.

Ben Solo had been First Order as recently as last year. The First Order, a contracting organization that sold weapons to the highest bidder. The First Order, who provided resources for war, to the highest bidder. The First Order, who sold and taught interrogation techniques to the highest bidder; bidders like the mercenaries who had shot Poe's transport out of the sky, the mercenaries who had refused to kill him instead of the people under his command, the mercenaries who had made him watch as they slaughtered his people one by one before moving on to the physical torture.

Solo might not have been there for Poe’s two weeks of hell in the desert, but he may as well have. He’d been annoyingly involved in the recovery process, as well, standing in the background as a silent, judgmental witness while his co-workers badgered Poe about the effectiveness of the techniques, how long did it take him to break, which of his friends shot in front of him really sealed the deal, and -- _don’t think about that._ He tells himself. _Not in front of her. Don’t let those wires cross._

“We were just leaving, Ben.” Poe tries to lead Rey out the door, hand clasped tightly around hers.

“Does she know who you are? Does she know what’s crawling into bed with her?” There’s ice water down his back, and Poe stops, releases Rey’s hand, and turns to face the man formerly known as Ben Solo.

“Hey, princess,” Kylo addresses Rey now. “Let me know when you’re tired of fucking a disgrace to the uniform,” Kylo sneers. And Poe’s heard worse, he’s thought worse things about himself, so he can let it go, almost. But Kylo has to keep talking, walking forward until he’s right in front of Poe and Rey, who’s standing between Kylo and him somehow, as she’s clearly not getting Poe’s mentally telegraphed message to _just stand behind me, sweetheart, he doesn’t even get to look at you_.

He looks at Poe and says, as if Rey isn’t there, “Be glad she’s letting you between her legs because once she remembers what a real man is, she’ll be back and begging to fuck me. Right, sweet thing?” And Poe really can’t fucking let it go now because Kylo has put his hand on her arm, and pulled her forward, easily, because he weighs more than twice what she does. And he’s stroking a thumb over her bare skin, and Rey looks disgusted. Poe hasn’t been in a fight on American soil that wasn’t pre-arranged, but he’s willing to make an exception.

Poe’s beaten to the punch, quite literally.

“You don’t get to fucking talk to him like that,” Rey says, hand coming to cover Kylo’s. And Poe isn’t entirely sure this isn’t some weird lucid dream because the tiny, cute, shy barista he’s been mooning over for over two months hauls back, yanks Kylo by the hand he has on her arm, does something with her foot against his upper thigh, and fucking _flips_ him onto his ass in the middle of the bar, managing to elbow him in the face in the process.

He’s on the ground, groaning, and Rey walks to tower over him, teeth bared in rage. “Don’t talk to me or Poe ever again!” Rey snaps, jabbing her finger at him, legs locked in a stance that tells Poe she’s used to standing her ground. She must be used to defending herself if she can operate this well under muscle memory while so clearly inebriated.

Sure enough, Rey sways slightly. “Oh fuck. I’m drunk,” she observes. Rey hiccups and reaches over to brace herself on a barstool.

“Bartender,” a red-headed man, the who’d been sitting with Kylo when Poe walked in, glares at Rey. “This woman assaulted my friend. Call 911”

“I didn’t see anything,” the bartender shrugs. “Musta blinked.”

“You blinked? She assaulted him! Using some kind of weird fucking karate!” He’s apparently too drunk to make an eloquent point.

The bartender continues cleaning a glass, unbothered by his customer’s concern. “I blinked for a long time, I guess.”

“I’ll kick your ass too,” Rey staggers towards the ginger friend. Poe snags her by the elbow and manages to haul her back towards him. She’s awfully hard to move for someone so thin.

“Rey,” the bartender warns, fixing her with an amused but stern glance.

“Lan-dooooooo,” she returns.

“Sorry, man,” Lando, the bartender, smiles at Poe. “Knew she was wasted, but she kept saying she didn’t need help with that guy. I mean, clearly she didn’t.” He looks at Rey, who’s dusting her hands off with extreme relish while walking (stumbling) around directionless, and then he looks back at Poe. “Said she had a friend she could call. Rey’s a good kid. She covered some shifts during the summer, but I never saw her drink before tonight. I can see why she doesn’t. Which is why I cut her off, almost an hour ago.” Lando directs that at Rey, who’s managed to stumble back.

“Oh come on, Lando,” Rey leans against Poe, and he tries not to relish the feeling so much, not when she’s somehow both volatile and vulnerable. “I won’t cause any more trouble.” She hiccups again, and it’s cute and worrisome. “I haven’t even been in a bar fight since I was like, 16.”

“What?” Poe asks, torn between amusement and horror. Kylo Ren is still lying on his back in front of the bar. Poe distantly wonders if he’s grievously injured – not that he would care, but he doesn’t want Rey to get in trouble – but he has a feeling it’s just his pride. The ginger asshole who’d been sitting with Ren has already sighed heavily and gone back to drinking his dry martini.

Rey waves her hand at him, and then continues to wave it while talking, like the world’s worst conductor. “I’m an _adult_ now. No bar fights. Nuh uh. Not anymore.” Rey leans back in and smiles up at him, her chin resting on his upper arm. “Will you take me home?” She bats her eyelashes at him in a way that is deeply, deeply unfair.

“Of course, Sunshine,” Poe smiles at her, somehow still shy even when he knows she won’t remember any of this in the morning.

“Make sure she actually gets home.” Lando gives him a look hard enough that he can almost physically feel it.

“Definitely,” Poe nods. “I’ll even text her roommates right now that I’m bringing her.”

“Rooooooose,” Rey giggles. “Rose and Finn are my roommates,” she explains to Lando.

“I know, Rey,” Lando smiles at her benevolently. “Finn worked here, too.”

Rey nods and then collapses slightly more against Poe. He bears her weight easily, but he’s worried all the same. “Let’s get you home, Rey.”

She wrinkles her nose at him while he leads her out the door after thanking Lando profusely.

Rey shivers the second they step outside. “Ugh, ‘s cold,” she wraps her thin arms around herself.

“Oh, shit, here,” Poe shrugs his jacket off and holds it out to her. Rey takes it, and he’s deeply amused and strangely pleased when she smells the collar deeply.

“Smells like you,” she comments, eyes closed. Yeah. Yeah, he’s so fucked. But he’s also needed because Rey’s too drunk to figure out how to put the jacket on. Poe helps her shrug into it, and then tugs it so it’s covering her front. Poe’s pretty sure the sight of her swamped in his old leather jacket is burned onto his corneas, but it’s fine, he’s fine. He wants to kiss her, but instead he unlocks the car and takes Rey by the hand.

Poe manages to get her in the car somehow, despite the fact that she’s drooping and tired and decidedly unhelpful. Bee barks worriedly when the door opens – and Poe hasn’t entered a public space without his dog in months, but he’d been so blinded by worry after Rey’s phone call, he had run into the bar without thinking twice – and he comes to sit in Rey’s lap after Poe buckles her in. The corgi sniffs her face before licking it enthusiastically. Poe opens his own door to her loud, sleepy giggles.

“Bee!” she laughs, writhing on her seat. “Poe, your dog is trying to eat me! Save me, Poe Dameron!” And she’s silly and happy and perfect, practically glowing in his passenger seat, and he really wants to kiss her. But she’s absolutely wasted, and she absolutely trusts him, so he’ll wait for her to be sober.

***

Poe had driven to Rey’s apartment last week, which he’s grateful for because she is not necessarily helpful in giving directions. She’s much more interested in giving him the “Rey-Niima-is-a-Human-Disaster Driving Tour of Raleigh, North Carolina” (her words, not his).

“Aaaaaaaaand here’s where I wiped out on my longboard,” she says, jabbing a slender finger out the window towards the corner of Kessel Run and Hosnian Drive. “It’s how I lost the bet that got me on the night shift.”

“Huh.” Poe looks over. It’s just concrete and metal as far as the eye can see. “Did that hurt?”

“Pull over!” Rey shouts, tugging on his arm. He assumes she’s about to be sick, so he obeys and haphazardly parks against the curb. He looks over his shoulder to see if there’s anything he can give her to vomit in because she’ll be slightly more comfortable if she isn’t wearing said vomit, but Rey’s out the car before he can blink.

“Rey!” He yells after her. She doesn’t even close the door, and instead she’s skipping to the corner she’d just pointed out. Poe tries to control his breathing – because God, he likes her, he really does, but why does she have to be so carefree with her own personal safety, it’s seriously stressing him out – and checks to make sure there’s no oncoming traffic before he throws open his own door and runs after her.

“Rey!” He calls, catching up with her quickly. Her inferior coordination right now is working in his favor. “Rey, sweetheart, why’d you get out of the car?”

Rey spins in a wide circle on the corner of Kessel and Hosnian, arms extended wide as she laughs up at the sky. “Take a picture, Dameron!” Rey giggles, slowing down and swaying side to side a foot in front of him.

“Okay,” Poe’s already pulling out his phone before he can think to ask: “Why?” He doesn’t need a reason, but he’s curious.

“Because, these were my first steps,” she gestures to the corner. “This place is where it all began! The beginning of my journey to meet you.” Rey giggles again, and spreads her arms wide. “Let’s commem-comemmor-com—oh, fuck it, take the picture!”

And how could he not obey after she told him _that._ Poe Dameron has just violently confronted one of the monsters of his past in a dingy bar, he’s standing on an ugly street corner, it’s forty degrees and he’s not wearing enough layers, and he’s here with Rey Niima, who’s wearing his too-big-for-her jacket and smiling at him as if him just existing was something clever for her to be pleased by. Rey Niima, who considers the circumstances under which they met wondrous enough for her to want to remember it. He wants to remember it, too, so he takes the picture.

And if he’s considering setting it as his wallpaper, well, that’s because he’s always been a sucker for beautiful things.

***

Poe gets her home, eventually, after a couple more strange detours on her driving tour. From what he can surmise, Rey spends a lot of time getting dared by Finn to do shit that lands her in the emergency room.

He ends up giving her a piggyback ride up the stairs, ignoring the groan in his lower back, the pull of his muscles that have never gone away, the result of piloting birds under too many G’s of force for too long. Rey’s warmth pressed against him is worth it.

Poe remembers that he isn’t even sure Rey has her keys when they get to the door, and he sets her down. He barely has time to curse his rotten planning before Rey tips forward, so that he has no choice but to pick her up again, this time cradling her in his arms.

The door swings open then, because of course it does, and Finn and Rose stare at them from the other side.

“Well, well, well.” Finn looks evil. “What do we have here.”

“Looks like Rey’s drunk,” Rose comments. “And it looks like she found a boy somewhere along the way.”

“That is what it looks like, isn’t it?” Finn smiles, all teeth.

“Hi,” Poe knows he’s blushing, and he’s definitely not in control of this situation which stresses him out more than it should – he’s eight years older than these people for God’s sakes, he’s fought literal terrorists – and Rey’s clearly very close to passing out. “Uh. She called me from the bar, Kylo Ren was harassing her.”

Rose’s face changes so quickly, it would be comic under any other circumstance. “He fucking what?” She snaps, walking forward to cup Rey’s face in her small hands. “Did he touch her?”

“On the arm, at least,” Poe says. Rey’s light in his arms now that she’s not flailing around, but he’d much rather see her tucked in bed safely.

Rose hisses between her teeth at Poe’s information. “I’ll fucking kill him,” she announces, stepping back, and Finn nods behind her.

“Not necessary,” Poe grins down at the woman in his arms. “She kicked his ass herself. It was amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Oh fuck,” Finn groans. “Please don’t tell her that. She’s so insufferable about her sparring, and this is honestly just going to make her more convinced she’s invincible.”

“ _She_ can hear you,” Rey informs him. “And I am invincible.” Her tough words are somewhat dampened as she twists in Poe’s arms and manages to nuzzle into his shirt. He’s fairly sure they’re going to have to list 'Rey Niima' as his cause of death.

“Can I take her to her room?” Poe asks. If Rose and Finn don’t want him around Rey when she’s this vulnerable, he understands. He’s sure Finn can carry Rey the rest of the way -- honestly, Rose probably could too.

“Go ahead, pilot man,” Rose steps out of the way and gestures grandly towards Rey’s room. “You can even sleep on the couch when she’s down. You look like you’ve been through the wringer.” Poe’s grateful for the offer. He’s full-bodied exhausted from the excitement of the last hours.

Poe walks all the way in, and then he stands and holds Rey a little longer so Rose can take her shoes off. Then he thanks them both for letting him in, trying not to be awkward about it, and he finally gets to Rey’s room.

“I’m sorry I’m drunk,” Rey says morosely after he sets her on the mattress. “I don’t like drunk people. I don’t like what they can do to other people. I understand if you don’t like me right now. I don’t like me when I’m drunk.” She buries her head in her pillow, and through his exhausted brain trying to determine the implications of _that_ statement, Poe finds an ability to respond, somehow.

“I always like you, Sunshine.” Poe smooths a hand over her hair, and moves to leave the room so she can sleep.

“Please don’t go,” Rey whispers, catching him by the hand. “Please don’t leave.” When he looks, there are tears in her eyes that he wants to kiss away, but he can’t because she’s drunk, and she’s vulnerable, and he’s still fairly convinced he breaks everything he touches.

“I won’t,” he promises. “I’ll sleep on the couch, Rose told me it was fine.”

“No,” Rey tugs on his hand, bottom lip in a pout as she looks up at him with her big, sad eyes. “Please stay. Here. Please stay here with me,” and Rey curls into a ball while still holding onto his hand. “Everyone always leaves,” she whispers.

And Poe feels like he’s intruding, he feels like he doesn’t deserve this. Rey wouldn’t want him to see her this vulnerable, he’s sure, but this is like nothing he’s ever felt. His heart is ripping open, and he remembers a Kinesiology class he took back at the Academy where they learned about how the human body destroys cells in the process of strengthening muscle fibers. The heart is a muscle, he understands, so that’s what this must be. His heart feels like it’s being ripped open, like it’s being destroyed, because it’s making room for her. It wants to be strong enough for her.

Rey Niima is looking at him with a strange combination of hope and reservation.

“I’ll be here,” he kneels down on the floor next to her bed. Bee hops up next to Rey when Poe pats the quilt that’s pulled up around her; the corgi settles in, circling once, twice, before curling up next to her chest. Rey swings an arm over the dog and smiles angelically, gratefully at them both.

“Promise you won’t leave,” she sighs, eyes closing despite her obvious effort to keep them open.

“Wild horses couldn’t drag me away,” Poe swears. It’s something his dad used to say to his mom, something from a song Kes used to sing to Shara when they were dancing in the living room and thought Poe had gone to bed.

He swallows and says something very stupid. “I’ll stay with you for as long as you want me. I’ll stay with you until you send me away, until you tell me to leave, Sunshine.”

Rey smiles at him. “Guess you’re stuck with me, then.” She’s asleep before he can figure out how to respond.

He ends up napping on the floor, head resting on her bedspread, fingers entwined with hers. He’s slept in a lot worse places. A lot worse places in the world than at the side of the most perfect girl in North Carolina, in America, on this hemisphere, on this planet, in the goddamn galaxy. Rey Niima is the last thing he sees before he falls asleep, and he takes particular, sleepy pleasure in the idea that she’ll be the first thing he sees when he wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ch. 5 will be extreme (X-TREME) fluff.


	5. Sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey wakes up the morning after her confrontation with Kylo; Poe and Rey go on another date; Rey has to work Open Mic Night again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (no real warnings but this is the sixth time I've tried to upload this chapter but AO3 keeps crashing so I'm sorry if there's a billion copies of this chapter)

Rey cracks her eyes open the next morning and groans. Her mouth tastes like the raccoon that once crawled into the Resistance’s dumpster and died, which had then attracted a hungry vulture, who had gotten trapped in the dumpster and subsequently died. Not that she had tasted any of it. Whatever. It’s a flawed metaphor, but it fits. And also they should probably clear out the dumpster more often.

She sits up and blinks around ten times to clear the shit in her eyes. She squints against the light, and she spots a glass of water and two ibuprofen on her dresser. Rey grabs at them shakily. That’s when she sees him.

Poe Dameron is asleep on her rug, head nestled on his forearm. Bee is sitting at the foot of her bed regarding them both – judgmentally? Knowingly? God, that can’t be right. He’s a corgi, for Christ’s sake.

Rey looks back down at Poe, and she takes a moment through her headache to appreciate just how pretty he is after she takes the pills and drinks some water. Rey sets the glass down as gently as she can, wincing slightly at the clink it makes against the wood. “Fuck,” she grumbles, rubbing her temples.

Poe jerks awake and looks up at her, wide-eyed. The second their eyes meet, parts of last night crash back into Rey.

“Oh shit,” she squeaks, coughing at the acrid taste in her throat. “Ohhhhhh, shit.”

“Good morning to you too, Sunshine,” Poe grins at her and shifts so he’s sitting upright.

“What time is it?” Rey asks weakly.

“Around 6:00 a.m.,” Poe laughs.

She bends at the waist, so her face presses into the blanket. She hopes that if she hides enough this will all go away, and she can somehow erase the fact that she drunk-dialed a man, the one she definitely has ridiculous-romantic-style feelings for, from a bar.

She has a hazy memory of Kylo Fuckface Ren being there, and she has a feeling he’s a large reason why she felt compelled to call Poe. But, the end result is the poor guy had come to get her and somehow fell asleep on her floor.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers into the comforter.

“For what, sweetheart?” Poe sounds concerned, his voice muffled by the blood in her ears. Rey lifts her head miserably.

“For ruining your night,” Rey clarifies. “For calling you drunk from a bar and…and, I don’t really remember what else happened, but God my elbow hurts, and my mouth tastes like ass, and—and you slept _on my floor._ ” Poe’s snorting with laughter, and Bee hops down to investigate.

“First of all, you didn’t ruin my night,” he says, standing and stretching. “I was honestly just watching shitty TV when you called, so there wasn’t anything to ruin. Second, never apologize for calling me. You needed my help, and I was happy to give it.” Had Kylo really freaked her out that much? He definitely gives her the creeps sober, so she can only imagine.

“Third,” and Poe’s counting out the reasons on his long, calloused fingers, and Rey lets herself focus on them, the way they move, the way she imagines they’d feel if they – _nope. Don’t do that, Rey. He probably doesn’t want to do that after your stunt last night._ “Third, your elbow hurts because you used it to smash Ren’s face open, which was, by the way, the most brilliant thing I’ve ever seen. And fourth, I slept on your floor because I wanted to. So there.”

Poe smiles at her, and Rey doesn’t even think before she pats the bed in front of her, clearly indicating that he should sit. Poe’s smile is a little more shy after that, and he settles onto the comforter and puts his hands in his lap.

“Well, I am sorry that I was drunk and probably a mess,” Rey laughs awkwardly and takes another sip of water. Her mouth tastes a little more human now. “That can’t have been pleasant. I’ve never been drunk, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You had a rough day,” Poe shrugs. “And you’re very charming while drunk. A little too charming.” His smile looks self-conscious now.

“How could I be too charming?” Rey asks.

“I really wanted to kiss you every time you did something adorable,” Poe admits, face flaming in what she assumes is embarrassment. And that’s ridiculous because what he’s saying is sweet and flattering. “So I wanted to kiss you a lot.”

“You should have,” Rey smiles at him encouragingly. “I’m sure drunk-me would have loved it.”

Poe blanches. “No. No, I would never.” He shakes his head. “I won’t kiss you unless you tell me it’s okay,” he says, looking away from her, his jaw set.

“Poe, you can very safely assume that I always want you to kiss me,” Rey teases him, using her foot to poke at his side. Poe catches her by the ankle, and rubs his thumb in a circle over the bone, both firm and gentle.

He turns to look her in the eyes, and Rey’s frozen by what she sees. “I mean it, Rey,” he tells her, voice hoarse. “I will never touch you without your permission. It’s non-negotiable.” He releases her quickly and folds his hands in his lap again. Poe squeezes his eyes shut and his shoulders go rigid.

Rey sits up and curls her legs underneath her so she can be closer to him. “Poe,” she says, reaching out but not quite touching him. “Do you want that to go two ways?” He doesn’t say anything, so she tries again. “Do you want me to make sure I have permission before I touch you?”

His eyes stay shut, but he bites his lip and nods once, twice, firmly. “Okay,” she agrees, pulling back to twist her hands together. Rey frantically searches her mind for any instance where she touched him without a clear go-ahead. She doesn’t think she comes up with anything – years of being touch-starved have made her hesitant to seek physical contact, assuming she’ll only find rejection.

Poe opens his eyes finally, and he smiles at her half-brokenly. “Rey,” he mutters, blinking once, slowly before he continues. “Tell me now, if you need to.”

“Tell—tell you what?” She asks, worried, confused. Her mind whirls in a thousand disjointed directions, and Rey ends up with a complete blank.

“Tell me to go away,” Rey’s heart splinters at the very thought of it. “Tell me that I’m no good for you. Tell me that I’m not what you want. There’s no way you signed up for all this. Like Kylo told you last night; it’s only a matter of time before you figure out who I am and want out.”

Rey remembers fucking nothing of what Kylo Ren told her last night. She remembers him being there, and she remembers distantly the feeling of her elbow against his face, but she can’t remember what he said about Poe.

“I don’t know what Kylo told me,” she starts, and Poe looks utterly conflicted. “But I know who you are. You’re Poe Dameron. You’re kind, and a little awkward, and you like to make big gestures but you don’t do so well with small talk. You’re 31 years old. You used to be a pilot for the Air Force, and you have a dog named Bee who acts more human than most people I know. You like your coffee strong, and you’re a damn good musician.” Poe smiles and holds his hand out between them. Rey takes it, and slips her fingers between his. She tries not to focus too much on how right it feels because she needs to finish what she started.

“You come to help drunk girls at bars and make sure they get home safely. You’re sweet, and noble. I’m sure you saved me last night, and I’d like the full story at some point. And I know something else: I like Poe Dameron, very much.” Poe’s beet red, and she’s sure she is too, but she pushes through. “I don’t know what else I’ll need to know later, whatever it is that you think is going to scare me, but that’s what I know about you right now. I’d like to know more, as much as you’ll share with me. I highly doubt there is anything you could tell me that could convince me that you were no good for me, Rey Niima, human disaster, a nobody from the middle of the desert.”

Poe squeezes her hand and leans in so she has to look into his eyes. “Rey,” he’s shaking his head. “Don’t ever believe that about yourself. You’re so much more than that. You’re the most incredible—” Poe cuts himself off, and it looks like he’s literally biting his tongue.

“Poe,” Rey swallows, and she braces herself for potential rejection. “I’d really like you to kiss me. But only if you want to.” Poe smiles at her, and it’s a slow-sweet smile, almost lazy. His hand tucks a strand of her hair – the one that’s always falling out, no matter what hairstyle she tries – and he leaves that hand behind her ear when he kisses her so, so gently. If he’d kissed her with intensity, with force, Rey thinks she might have been fine. But this, being treated with care, as if she were worth the extra effort. That’s what’s going to break her into pieces.

Rey kisses him back as well as she can, knowing that her breath is sour from drinking the previous night. “Sorry,” she whispers when she breaks the kiss, hand coming in front of her mouth (like he wasn’t just right there). “Haven’t brushed my teeth yet.”

Poe huffs a quiet laugh in response “I don’t care,” he tells her, leaning in closer, his other hand coming to frame her face. “I don’t care if you don’t care.” And she knows he means it, and she kisses him again, and again, until she’s dizzy despite being seated.

“Okay,” she gasps when his lips begin to move to the corner of her jaw. “I really need to brush my teeth so I can kiss you more. Please?” He stops abruptly and pulls away, spots of color high on his cheeks.

“Yeah,” he’s still smiling, so he couldn’t have found her breath that repulsive. “Yeah okay, sweetheart.” She slides her legs out from underneath and kicks them over the bed with great effort. When Rey stands up, she sways slightly.

“Whoa,” she says, knees shaking.

“You’re dehydrated, goose,” Poe leans over to her dresser and grabs the glass of water. “Drink this on your way to the bathroom.”

“Bossy,” Rey mutters at him, getting a small smile in return when she takes a deliberate sip from the glass. While she walks to the bathroom, she privately thinks to herself that while she’s had a fiercely independent streak for most of her life, she doesn’t mind it so much when Poe does things to make her life a little easier. It makes her feel cared for in a way she never has before.

Rey leans against the sink and brushes her teeth. Something in her curls at the thought of returning to her room where a handsome pilot waits for her on her bed. She isn’t sure what strange, romantic dream she’s stumbled into; she just knows she doesn’t want to wake up.

***

Rey makes it into her mid-day shift ten minutes early. Poe had dropped her off after spending the morning curled up on the couch with her watching Netflix, lazily drawing circles and various figures on her legs that were drawn up into his lap. He dozed off more than once, and Rey had taken full advantage of that to marvel at his heartbeat thudding, clear and loud and comforting, under her ear. She’d gotten up to leave an hour before her shift started, and Poe had convinced her to stay on the couch and cuddle just a little while longer.

“I’ll drive you to work,” he had said, staring up at her with puppy dog eyes that were more effective than even Bee’s.

“I’ll have no way of getting home,” Rey had reminded him, smiling as she dug around in the front hall bowl for her bike lock key.

“I’ll pick you up when you’re done,” Poe looked so hopeful that she finally agreed.

“Fine,” Rey sighed, closing the closet door. “I guess we can hang out a little longer.” He’d smiled, full and wide, and held his arms out. Rey snorted and, against the years of built-up defense mechanisms, dove back to the couch where he’d caught her up in his arms, both of them laughing delightedly as he kissed her over and over again.

Rey’s thinking about that moment as she ties her apron on and starts making a fresh pot of coffee. She hums quietly to herself and smiles when she realizes it’s a song Poe had been singing on the car ride over.

Poe Dameron has gotten under her skin, and she is happy about it. Also nervous, and anxious, and apprehensive, but she’ll focus on the happy for right now.

***

When Poe walks in twenty minutes before her shift ends, Finn takes his order. “So, that’ll be a dark roast, large, with a side of the barista you keep staring at.”

Poe splutters, and Rose jumps in while walking out from the back. “Oh Finn, you know we can’t actually give him Rey. She’s only a secret menu item on Sundays.”

 “Ah, yes,” Finn nods sagely. “So, come back tomorrow.” Poe looks like he’s about to agree and leave, his hands fidgeting with the edge of his jacket, so Rey decides to rescue him.

“Hush, both of you,” Rey scolds them, handing Poe his drink. “Don’t worry, I’ll be done soon, Poe.” Poe looks still mortified as he walks over to his usual chair. Bee settles underneath the seat when Poe opens his book and starts reading.

“Be nice to him,” Rey hisses at her friends after she’s pretty sure he’s not paying attnetion. “I think you two make him anxious.” They look at her, grinning evilly, but she puts on her fiercest don’t-fuck-with-me face and both of them look taken aback. “I don’t know what he has to do to get you two off his case. I’m pretty sure he saved me from Kylo Ren last night, and he’s been nothing but sweet to me. And I mean it. I think you make him legitimately anxious sometimes. And—and I love it when you guys tease me, but he doesn’t know you well enough yet for you to say that short of shit to him. So please. Please be nice to him?”

Rose lets out a breath. “Fuck. You really like him.”

Rey looks over her shoulder to see if Poe has heard any of this, but he seems to be fully engrossed in his novel. “Yes, I really do. And you will too. But even if I didn’t like him, he deserves to be treated nicely. He’s a good person.”

Finn nods at her. “I got you, Rey.” He smiles at her. “Sorry.” Rey nods and turns to take the order of an approaching customer. She casts another glance over at Poe while she’s ringing them up, and he’s slid down in his chair and pulled the book closer to his face, deep in thought.

Rey thanks the customer and finishes preparing the order, and goes back to staring at Poe. A hand has come to rest on his mouth as he reads intently, and she can see that his eyebrows have climbed towards his hairline, suggesting that he’s deeply surprised by something in his book.

She’s surprised too, at how quickly she’s fallen for the sweet musician who used to bug the crap out of her with his awkward flirting. She has a feeling Poe Dameron will continue to surprise her, in very welcome ways.

***

After her shift, and after making small talk about his book while she sits in the chair across from him, sipping an iced tea, Poe walks her to his car, and goes to open her door as usual. “Sunshine,” he says, pausing after he grips the handle. “Don’t feel like you have to say yes, because I’m happy to drive you home either way, but—how would you feel about going out tonight? I’d like to take you on a third date.”

“Third?” Rey asks him, confused but also elated at the prospect that he wants to spend more time with her. He’d seen so much of her this morning, and he wants _more._ Rey’s thrilled by that. “We’ve only been on the one date.”

“I mean, technically.” Poe smiles at her and pulls the door open. “But I think watching you kick the shit out of Kylo Ren definitely qualifies as a date. I haven’t had that much fun in years.”

“Maybe we can go find him,” she drawls, hopping up into the seat and buckling in. “I’d be happy to go for another round with Kylo. Imagine what I could do to him sober.”

Poe closes the door, jogs around to his side of the car and slides in. “Sweetheart, I don’t know if my heart could take that much excitement.” She laughs and finds his hand over the console as he begins to drive.

Their third date consists of walking around Pullen Park, and Rey names every plant they pass for Poe, who looks increasingly awed.

Rey blushes against his praise, and considers stopping her nervous habit. But then Poe points to a tall row of pink flowers and asks her the name, looking genuinely curious.

“That’s _Chelone Iyonii,_ ” she answers. “It’s also called pink turtlehead, and it does well in climate zones 4-8. This is the last month it will bloom, though. I’m a little surprised the frost this week didn’t kill them.” She smiles at the hardy perennials, and then at Poe, blushing slightly. “They’re also called ‘hot lips,’ sometimes.”

“You’re incredible,” he tells her solemnly, studying her own lips. “Can I kiss you?”

Rey nods happily, holding out her hand. Poe takes it, understanding her non-verbal question, and when he kisses her, it’s sweeter than the flowers that sway all around them.

God, Rey is so fucked.

***

Finn gets a cold on Tuesday after running home in a sudden rainstorm, and Rose and Rey take turns fussing over him on Wednesday morning. Before Rey leaves for the night shift, Finn groans loudly and apologetically.

“I jus’ feel bad,” he sniffs, nose plugged and blurring his consonants. “Now Rey hath to work during Open Mic, and thee hateth that thit.”

“I’ll be fine, Trooper,” Rey hands him a mug, which he accepts gratefully, sinking further into his blanket burrito. “Or should I say, Patient Zero.” Finn half-heartedly flicks her off while sipping his beverage.

“I think it’s supposed to be _pinkie_ out, Finn,” Rey says haughtily as she goes to grab her longboard from the hall closet.

“Hab fun!” He calls over his shoulder. Rey waves him off and jogs out the door and down the stairs. She sets her board down and pushes off with her left foot, enjoying the cold wind against her face as she heads towards the Resistance.

She clocks in after she arrives and gets to work with Connie, who’s always a fun shift partner.

Connie, like Rey, has a weird name – Connix. “My parents were hippie mathematicians or some shit,” she had explained a few months ago, rolling her eyes. “And now they’re just mathematicians. My brother’s name is Locus. I’m not sure what’s worse.”

They throw the chairs together and plug in the various sound equipment: it’s usually Finn’s job because he likes to do it, but Rey and Rose secretly follow him around and fix the mistakes he makes in setting up. Rey does not look forward to the day where he puts it together.

Connie eyes the sign-up sheet and makes a cooing noise.

“What?” Rey asks, buried in a speaker that Rose had mentioned was broken. Rey fusses over the small parts inside with her collected tools, and she hisses in victory as she snaps a dislodged piece back into place.

“Nothing,” Connie shrugs, pinning the sheet up at the end of the stage. “That cutely weird couple with the ukuleles is back, is all.” Rey snorts in appreciation and considers texting Poe, who was a definite fanboy for the duo.

But her phone’s dead, and she’s past her text quota for the week, so she refrains. Poe had mentioned being busy tonight, anyway, and probably doesn’t want her bothering him.

As the night wears on, Rey finds herself comparing every one of the musical acts to Poe. None of them come close, and she sighs, chin in hand as she leans against the counter, imagining his confident smile when he used to sit up on stage, playing his guitar and staring at her like he could actually _see_ her.

Rey blinks. She’s not imagining it – Poe had somehow walked in without her noticing, maybe when she was in the back getting more bottles of water, and now he’s walking up on stage, guitar in hand.

More than one person in the crowd screams in recognition, and Rey even gives a small cheer. Poe looks over at her grinning, having heard her from clear across the shop. Rey blushes but doesn’t look away.

He settles onto the stool and adjusts the mic. “Hello again,” he calls, laughing charmingly when the screams start back up. “Guess I just couldn’t stay away. Not my fault. They serve really good coffee here.” The wink he serves Rey is obscene, ( _lascivious,_ the eighth grade spelling champion inside of her supplies), and when heads in the audience turn to see where he had directed the wink, Rey doesn’t back down. She lifts a pot of coffee in a strange salute and winks right back.

She can see him blush from her place behind the counter. Rey settles back down, her elbows on the counter as Poe clears his throat, clearly trying to regain his composure.

“This one’s for you, Sunshine,” he smiles, running his fingers along the strings. “And feel free to sing along, everyone.” Oh, fuck him.

 _“I've got sunshine on a cloudy day_ _/When it's cold outside, I've got the month of May.”_

Poe winks at her on the word “sunshine,” and Rey can’t resist smiling back. She can’t deny how wonderful he sounds tonight. He sounds wonderful whenever he performs, but this is the first cheerful song she’s heard him sing. It suits him.

 _“Well I guess you'd say_ / _What can make me feel this way?”_ Poe grins encouragingly at the audience, who all start screaming the chorus with him.

 _“My girl”_ A guy in the front row provides the “ _my girl, my girl”_ response, and Poe laughs throatily, shouting back, “Thanks buddy!” before continuing through the rest of the verses.

When he finishes to thunderous applause, Poe still only has eyes for Rey. She’s fighting the urge to look away, when someone in the audience cries out, “kiss her!”

Poe smiles, sweet and unsure, down at his guitar. “Maybe later, if I’m lucky.” Rey beams back at him when he looks up, and he smiles through the rest of his (much more upbeat than normal) set.

Watching him play in the warm and happy coffeeshop, Rey quietly thinks that she’s really, really glad she lost that bet all those months ago. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's what I had planned for this part of the story. The later chapters that continue to explore the potential dynamic of Poe/Rey's relationship in this AU are much darker/more mature/frankly explicit in nature, which brings me to my question:
> 
> Should I keep this a separate fic, light and fluffy and solidly coffeeshop AU-based, and make the more adult chapters a separate "sequel" in a series? (Which would let this stay rated T and would spare people who don't like copious amounts of angst/smut in their fluff)
> 
> Or, should I keep it one longer fic, keep it tidy, and up the rating/change the tags? 
> 
> Let me know what you think! I already have about 35 pages more written, and I don't know if/how you all would like to see it published.
> 
> Thank you for reading <3


	6. Conversations (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so fair as I could figure it, I decided to keep this as one larger fic, but split it into two parts in case anyone wanted to stop reading after the Rated-T first part. 
> 
> I'll post warnings for content in each chapter notes (and what I think the general rating of the individual chapter is), and sometimes I'll ask for your input in the end notes! (but I always welcome feedback even if I don't pose a question!)
> 
> Thank you lovelies!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Poe and Rey discuss sexual history, Poe mentally references an aspect of his torture that involved being tied down, Rey discusses bondage/ a dom/sub dynamic with Poe as she finds that intriguing. 
> 
> tags for this chapter are probably: bisexual, experienced Poe Dameron; sexually curious Rey; references to torture/PTSD; frank conversations about sexuality/birth control.
> 
> Also, we learn briefly about Poe's last sexual partner/why he hasn't had sex since he came back from overseas 
> 
> Rating: M, solidly M

Things are going so impossibly well with Rey, Poe half-thinks he’s lost his shit again and he’s concocted this whole scenario in his mind.

They’ve been going on dates for three weeks, and today, a Thursday, they’ve ended up at his place to eat greasy, delicious junk food in celebration of Rey finishing midterms.

Rey settles herself into the couch next to Poe, and he smiles at her as she hands him a plate of pizza.

“Hey, Poe,” she says casually, taking a giant bite of her slice of pepperoni.

“Hey, Rey,” he parrots at her and she glowers at him, her cheeks full of pizza.

Her face then shifts to careful neutrality. “Do you mind if I ask you about sex?”

Poe’s lucky he hasn’t taken a bite yet or he would have choked. “Uh, sure, Sunshine.”

“I mean like, sex with us,” she gestures between them without looking at him, staring at her pizza. “And also sex in general.”

“Ask me anything you want.” He means it. They’ve been taking things slow, which is more than fine with him – he doesn’t know what to do with the war inside of himself; the war between the half that wants to be inside her, be as close as possible to her, as close as she’ll let him, and the half that whispers to him that he’ll hurt her, that the last person he shared _that_ with ended up in a box, being lowered into the ground while a superior officer handed his weeping father a flag.

“Okay.” Her cheeks are pink, and she clearly makes herself make eye contact with him. “So, I was talking to Rose about it, and she took me to the student health clinic on Monday, and I asked them to put me on birth control.”

“Oh,” Poe nods in response. “Okay.” He waits for the question.

“Yeah.” Rey sets her jaw and keeps going, her face focused and determined as if this were a particularly difficult math problem she wanted to solve. “And I got an exam done because apparently you’re supposed to before you have sex, and I’m clean and everything and I was wondering if – if.” She buries her face in her hands as she asks “If you were also clean, and also if you were still willing to use a condom if we have sex.”

Poe’s eyebrows lift. “Of course I’d use a condom, Sunshine, I wouldn’t risk your health like that.” He taps on her wrist, trying to indicate that he’d like to see her face, and Rey understands him like she always does. Her face is bright red when she drops her hands, but she smiles at him.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

“Don’t thank me, sweetheart.” He frowns at her thoughtfully. “And Rey, please, please know that you should never have sex with someone who isn’t willing to follow your standard of safety.”

Rey nods. “Rose already talked to me about all that. I just wanted to ask you before it got to that point.” She shifts in her seat while pushing her feet against the ground.

Poe remembers that he never answered the first question. “I am clean, though, for what it’s worth.” He smiles at her when she looks over at him. “I can give you a copy of my most recent bloodwork.” _From a year ago, from Durham, from when they discharged you, when are you going to tell her that before her no one’s so much as touched you in a year_.

“You don’t have to do that,” she tells him gently. “I trust you.”

He shakes his head, empathically. “That means the world to me, sweetheart, but honestly, you should look at it. You deserve transparency, and peace of mind.”

“Okay,” Rey nods and goes back to eating her pizza. “Thank you,” she tells him again around a mouthful of food.

Poe finally thinks it’s safe to start eating, but about a minute later he swears he can _see_ the next question itching under her skin.

“Yes, Rey?” He knows he sounds as amused as he feels.

“How many sexual partners have you had?” Rey squeaks the question. “Sorry, sorry, Rose said I should ask.”

Poe shrugs, but he does have to count. How many? Starting from when he was sixteen to last year… “Around thirty?” He guesses.

Rey looks surprised but not judgmental. “You’ve had thirty girlfriends?”

He laughs, and he hopes it doesn’t sound unkind. He laughs because she’s innocent, and sweet, and clearly has an image of him as a certain kind of person, an image he desperately wants to protect, but he also should probably clarify so she sees him more realistically. “Not all girlfriends, sweetheart,” he smiles and hopes she understands what he means and won’t hate him for it. “And not all girls, either.” He adds.

“Okay,” she nods. “Thirty, though.” She looks sad, suddenly.

“What is it?” Poe’s more than a little worried that this is where she finally pieces together that he’s no good for her.

“Finn was my first friend,” and Rey says it like it’s something she’s ashamed of, and not a sign of how much she’s overcome, how hard she’s worked to survive, how wonderful it is that she came out the other side of her lonely childhood as a sweet, kind, loving person. “And other than Rose…” she sighs, and wraps her arms around her middle, leaning forward so she’s looking at the ground and not him. “I don’t think I could even name thirty people that I’ve known in my life, Poe. I don’t know what I could possibly offer you. I’m a nobody, I’m nothing, from nowhere.”

“Sunshine,” he’s in agony, now, and he slides forward so he’s on his knees in front of her. He puts his hands on her calves, risking his luck like always because he’s never learned, and tries to catch her eye beseechingly. “You’re not nothing.” He wants to hunt down whoever told her that because they must have been a real, persistent asshole to make her believe it. It isn’t the first time he’s heard her say something like that, but he’s going to try his best to make sure it’s the last. “You could never be nothing. You’re wonderful.” _You’re everything_ catches on the tip of his tongue, but he holds it back.

“So are you,” she smiles down at him, running her hand through his hair – and Poe thinks of the skin-and-bones cat that used to hang around his dad’s place, how desperate it always was to be petted, to be loved – he thinks about that cat now as she scratches her short nails along his scalp because god _damn_ he might just purr.

Poe kisses her knee lazily and catalogues the cute gasp she makes even though his lips press into fabric and not skin. He likes the noise. He more than likes Rey.

So he can’t fuck this up. “I’ll take whatever you want to give me, Sunshine. I mean it.” He rests his head on her knee. “We should talk about what you’re comfortable with and not comfortable with, though. It’s really easy to get caught up in everything, in the moment,” and doesn’t he know it, doesn’t he know that he could _drown_ in Rey Niima, “and then make a decision you regret. So we should both know beforehand what we’d like to do. Set our boundaries, share our expectations.”

“Okay,” Rey smiles at him, biting her lip shyly. “That sounds nice. Would it be alright if I had some time to think about it, so I can tell you?”

“Take as much time as you need, Rey.” Poe smiles back at her. He’d wait an eternity for her, and then some. “Want to watch something?” He asks, already turning around so he can lean against the sofa, nestled between her legs. Rey hums in agreement and returns her hands to his hair, like he’d secretly been hoping she would.

**

“How do you feel about bondage?” Rey asks him a few days later, out of the blue while he’s driving them to the theater. She asks that right after she asked him who directed the action movie they’re about to see. She says it casually, like she’s asking him if he thinks it’s going to rain tomorrow or if he likes two creams or three in his coffee.

“Huh?” is his highly intelligent response. His hands clench on the wheel uncontrollably.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” she says shrugging. “And I know I haven’t ever even had sex, but I’ve been thinking about it, and I like the idea. So, how do you feel about it?”

Poe swallows, hard. “Guh.” Seriously, he graduates high school a year early, finishes the Academy top of his class with a double major, is fluent in three languages, became the youngest Major in years, and the best he can do when the girl he’s totally gone for talks to him about sex, and hot sex at that, is “guh.”

Rey’s smile has a slight edge to it now, like she’s starting to realize what she’s doing to him. “Yes, well, I did some research about different ways to have sex,” and ain’t that a picture, “because you asked me to think about what I’d be comfortable with,” _I meant what base you’d want to go to, sweetheart, maybe some positions you want to start off with, Jesus fucking Christ when did this become a wet dream, am I dead, am I in Heaven, no I’m definitely in Hell because I’m burning alive,_ “and I really like the idea of bondage.” Rey ends by turning her large, world-stopping eyes on him.

Come on, Dameron, you can do this. “You or me?” he asks, hoping that the pitch and tone of his voice conveys to her how _very_ interested he is in this subject even when he can’t properly form more than three words at a time right now. Once upon a time, he’d be fine with either answer – honestly he _wants_ to do everything with her – but he’s almost gritting his teeth in pre-disappointment if she wants him to be the one who gets tied down. He isn’t so good with restraints, anymore.

“Me,” she looks out the window, ears red. “I’d want for you to be…you know.”

“In control?” His heart’s slamming against his chest in a way it usually only does during physical therapy.

“Yeah,” she breathes, looking back at him. “I want you to be in control. And not just if I’m, you know, tied up.” Her face is flushed entirely red, and Poe’s utterly fucked, “I like the idea of you in control other times too. Like. Telling me what to do?” Rey’s sweet smile juxtaposes with the intensity of what she’s asking of him. “Because I’m so afraid of doing the wrong thing, and I want it to be good and - I trust you. I trust you to make it good. For both of us.” Fuck if that doesn’t add five years onto his life.

He’s still not all that eloquent, blood in his body busy elsewhere. “Okay,” Poe nods, pulling into a parking spot. “Okay, we can work with that.”

“Great!” Rey says. She opens her door because he’s still too fucking gob smacked to get out of the car and open it for her, “Last one in has to buy the popcorn.”

Poe takes his sweet time getting out of the car because really he was already planning on buying her the damn popcorn anyway, but also because he’s willing the _largest fucking erection he’s had since sophomore year_ to go down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Rey
> 
>  
> 
> (next chapter is smut, with some fairly mild dom overtones at points -- aka Poe likes giving Rey what she wants, and I honestly could go on for paragraphs about why I think that sort of dynamic would work between them in this universe).
> 
> Also, most of the chapters in this part are longer, this was just an easing-in to the next stage of the story.


	7. Sweet Dream Fall for Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we earn our "E" rating pretty solidly.
> 
> Rey tries to convince Poe that she's more than okay with being more physical. He responds pretty well.
> 
> That's it. That's the plot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: ~Smut~  
> Tags: a bit of dom!Poe, sexually curious Rey/sexually assertive Rey; careful Poe, Poe likes to dirty talk; canon latino character (Poe talks in Spanish when he's overwhelmed), slight dom/sub dynamic
> 
>  
> 
> [spoilery warnings in case there are any squicks]:  
> Rey surprises Poe with lingerie; manual sexual stimulation of both Poe/Rey; Poe briefly masturbates; with Rey's permission/pre-discussion, he ejaculates onto her

Rey decides to take matters into her own hands a week after their conversation in the car.

Well, Rose helps. And by “help,” Rey means _shoves a bag of lingerie into her hands shouting “I looked to see what size you were, not at all sorry, go get laid,” and then when she’s changing, bangs on the door suggesting that Rey wear the red ones because Rose wants to know if it’s possible for his eyes to actually fall out of his head._

Rose also enthusiastically backs Rey’s plan for encouraging Poe to take the next step.

So, when they get to his apartment, she cleverly convinces him to watch Netflix in his bed -- “I’m just so tired,” she had even fake-yawned for double-empathy, and then restrained herself from fist pumping when his eyes immediately softened before he agreed with her -- and she’s also cleverly convinced him to stop watching it.

 Rey Niima knows what she wants, and she is on a mission tonight. It’s not that he’s demonstrated a lack of interest – quite the opposite, really – but if he pulls away from her one more time, just when she’s starting to feel him, hard and _there,_ so close to where she wants him. Well, Rey’s fairly certain she’ll explode.

Poe’s doing something very similar now, as he balances on his hands, just barely out of reach from where he needs to be. Rey bucks her hips up, slightly, trying to convince him to drop the last inch or two so he’s entirely pressed against her. He groans, low and desperate in his throat, and his hand comes down to tease the small slip of skin that’s been exposed by her constant, needy movements. “Sorry,” he whispers as he pulls away, looking mortified. “Sorry, sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Rey could scream, but she tries to sound sweet. It’s not her forte.

He sits up all the same, and he clears his throat. Rey fights the ridiculous urge to cry – she’s a fucking survivor, and she’s just trying to convince a man to do something she’s so incredibly convinced he already wants to do – and asks, “Can I use the bathroom?” Poe moves so her path isn’t blocked and nods.

“Of course, sweetheart,” he smiles at her, and Rey pretends not to notice when his hand moves to adjust his erection through his pants.

Instead, Rey gets up and walks out the door to the hallway, crossing over into his bathroom. It’s painstakingly clean and smells like lavender. She doesn’t want Rose to ever see it because she’ll never hear the end of “ _how does one man who lives by himself have a nicer bathroom than us_?” Rey stares at herself in the mirror. “You can do this,” she tells herself firmly. “Go get laid.” Rose’s words, but they’re a fair summation of her goal for tonight, at least. She takes a deep breath and splashes cold water on her face, if only to cut the incredible nervousness in her stomach. “Breathe” she whispers, closing her eyes and chasing a feeling of peace, what she imagines a glass-still surface of a lake to look like. “Just breathe.” She tugs her shirt off, and then kicks out of her pants.

Then, she makes the mistake of looking in the mirror. Rey isn’t afraid of a challenge, but she’s a little afraid of what Poe will think of the jagged marks from Unkar Plutt, the poorly healed scar from a smashed beer bottle, the obvious cigarette burns on her upper arms. Rey shakes her head. “Come on, Niima, you shaved for this,” she mutters. And that’s probably what convinces her, especially when confronted her collection of scars, the jut of her hipbones and ribs. She wants this, she wants him. And if he doesn’t want her the way she is – then he isn’t who she thought he was.

Rey takes another deep breath, adjusts the bralette Rose gave her, and marches out the door. The march becomes a traipsing step as she crosses over to the door. Poe’s sitting on the edge of his bed, clothes arranged back into place. His head is bowed, and his elbows rest on his legs, hands clasped in front of him while he stares at the floor, deep in thought.

“Don’t hurt yourself, Major,” she teases him. Poe looks up, smile halfway on, when he sees her. He begins to stand, almost subconsciously, and Rey feels a delightful thrill from how his skin immediately flushes, his eyes bugging out as he takes her in. _Well, they didn’t fall all the way out,_ she thinks, wondering if Rose will be disappointed.

“Hi,’ she whispers, hands going to fidget with each other before she remembers that she’s almost naked, and the point of this is so that he can look at her. She drops her arms by her side and stands up as tall as she can before she starts walking over. _One foot in front of the other,_ she sings nonsensically in her head because fuck, her heart’s pounding loud enough for him to hear, she’s sure.

“H-hey,” Poe stammers, straightening up as well. He bites his bottom lip while he regards her. “That’s uh…”

“Like what you see?” Rey asks in what she hopes is a purr. He stumbles forward, looking helpless, and Rey wants to laugh because she’s so happy, she’s so glad she did this, she’s so….

Poe’s in front of her now, and the only thing she can feel is how much she wants him to touch her. And he told her to always let him know what she wanted. So, she asks.

“Will you touch me?” She asks shyly. Rey looks at his feet when she does, because she has limits to her boldness and she’s so afraid that he won’t want this, that he won’t want to touch her, maybe he just wants to look, that could be okay too, she read about that as well and –

Poe’s finger comes to rest under her chin. “Look at me,” and she shivers even though it isn’t a command, it’s just Poe talking. “Please.” She lets him tilt her chin up so she’s looking him in the face. Poe’s eyes are burning with something, and Rey feels her body light up in response. “Where do you want me to touch you, Rey?”

“Everywhere,” she admits.

“Everywhere?” And he’s halfway between the Poe who stares at her, open and bold and demanding, behind a microphone and the Poe who tripped over his regular coffee order because he couldn’t get his words straight in front of her. She likes the way he looks right now.

“Yeah,” she whispers before his hands come up to slide through her hair, his palms resting on the sides of her face as he pulls her in for a searing kiss.

“Everywhere?" he confirms when they pull away, allowing one of his hands to move downwards, a single finger tracing a path along her jawline, down her neck, to the notch in her collarbone.

“Yes,” she says, again, completely at his mercy.

Poe looks at her face again, dragging his eyes away from her body with such an effort she wouldn’t be surprised if it physically strained him. “Sweetheart,” his voice is gravelly and it makes her stomach flip backwards. “I’m really going to touch you now, if that’s okay with you.”

“I think it is,” Rey laughs but stops when she sees his face. He more than wants her permission. He needs it. “You can touch me, Poe,” she tells him without laughing. “You can touch me anywhere you want.” Something settles in his face and he nods once.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” Both his hands skate lightly down the length of her neck, over her covered breasts, around her stomach. One hand curls around her hipbone, dragging her flush against his clothed body, and Rey whimpers when she feels him through his pants. The other hand tangles in the hair on the back of her head as he yanks her forward for another kiss.

Like she would tell him to stop when it feels this good. His hands are nimble while they move down her back. “Pretty,” he declares as his fingers find the clasp of her bra, “But I want to take it off. Can I?”

Rey nods, and he kisses her again. She’d taken about three minutes trying to figure out how to put the damn thing on, and he’s got it undone and is sliding the straps off her shoulders in less than ten seconds. She’s so caught up in how unfair it is that she doesn’t notice when he shifts to pull away.

“Can I look at you?” He asks, and Rey laughs. He once spent six weeks looking at her in the middle of increasingly intimate musical performances, and he asks to look at her now? “I mean it, Rey.” Poe looks at her like she’s holding his life in her hands, and it makes her squirm. “Only if it’s okay with you.”

Rey lets it fall the rest of the way off. Poe makes a noise like she’d stepped on his foot – she even subconsciously checks to see if she did, because that’s definitely something she would do – and when she looks back up, she sees him staring at her in open fascination. “You can touch me,” she reminds him. “I really want you to touch me.” Her voice is breathy, nervous. She doesn’t sound like herself.

“Yeah?” He whispers. And then his hands are on her, exploring every inch of her torso, and she whimpers as a hand brushes over a nipple. Rey arches her back slightly into his palm, caught up in the feeling.   

Poe kisses her, hard, in response, pulling her in close like he could eliminate every possible inch of space between them, and Rey whimpers again when she remembers that that’s _possible,_ she can have him as close as she can.

“I’m gonna sit on the bed,” he tells her. “And then we’re going to figure out how you sound when you come on my fingers.” He pulls away abruptly and Rey gasps, half from the sudden departure of his warmth, half from the obscenity of what he just said.

Poe walks backwards, biting his lip. “Too much?” He asks, looking slightly worried.

“No,” she shakes her head, “No, no, no, definitely not.” He grins, self-satisfied and throws himself on the bed, leaning back on his hands.

“Well?” He drawls more confidently.

Rey waltzes forward and stops a foot away from him. She wriggles out of her underwear and tosses them to the corner of the room. _Sorry, Rose_ she thinks half-heartedly.

Poe’s pupils somehow expand more. “Fuck,” he says, leaning forward and looking at her body unabashedly. He looks so pleased, she can’t even find it in herself to be embarrassed. “I’m definitely doing that next time, sweetheart.” And Rey wants to die of happiness because he still wants a _next time_ with her.

“Come here.” She steps forward so she’s between his knees. “Here,” he says, sliding a hand from her lower back, over her ass, down her thigh, and cups behind her knee. Poe pulls her leg up and over so her knee’s resting on the bed near his hip, hooked over his thigh. She feels very vulnerable, but still so safe. She knows instinctively that this wouldn’t work, that she would be out the door by now, if this were anyone but Poe.

She makes a new, undiscovered noise when he leans forward to kiss her near her navel. “Jesus Christ, you’re perfect,” he tells her. "Can I see how wet you are?" Rey blushes furiously in response. "Please, sweetheart, tell me if I can touch you."

"Yes," she squeaks. Suddenly, his fingers are on her. Rey yelps. Her hands go to his shoulders so she can stay upright as he begins a very thorough investigation. His fingers are just as clever as he is, and he quickly figures out exactly the pattern she likes.

“Is this okay?” He asks her who knows how many seconds or minutes or hours later, just barely touching her entrance.

“Yes,” she’s burning alive. “Yes, yes, want you in me.” They both groan as he sinks in.

She’s lost to the feeling of it, cast adrift. She’s so distracted she doesn’t initially break the eye contact when Poe stares up at her face in something that’s so open, too open, too full of affection. She doesn’t want him to see how much she likes him, how she secretly worries that this will be over before it really starts, because there’s so much she’s still so afraid of, even if she’s starting to think she could maybe trust this man with everything. Rey closes her eyes against the intense emotion, mewling as he adds another finger. She’s distantly aware of her hips moving, seemingly of their own volition.

“If only you could see how you look, riding my fingers, Jesus fuck,” Poe, who’s typically shy as hell off-stage, is suddenly spewing speech that sounds frankly pornographic. “Prettier than a picture, swear to God.” Rey whimpers in response and gasps as his thumb finds her clit and begins to rub steady circles around it.

“Poe,” she says, more breath than sound. “Oh—oh.”

“Sweetheart,” he croons at her. Rey leans so she can grab his wrist and try to control his movement. “What do you want, sweetheart? Huh?” Rey shakes her head, almost sobbing from how much _more_ she needs. “Faster? Slower?” His laugh is dark and makes her blood boil even more. She forces her eyes open when his hand slows and stops. He’s biting his lip, face flushed, and pupils blown wide. He looks undeniably _good_ sitting below her, but she wants…oh fuck, she wants….

“Gotta use your words, sweetheart.” Poe reaches up and tucks a strand of her damp hair out of her face.

“Want you on top of me,” she says. Yeah. That sounds good. “Want you over me while—” She gasps when he brushes up against some place inside her that has her seeing stars.

“While what,” he’s a teasing bastard and she hates how much she likes it. “Come on gorgeous, tell me what you want so I can give it to you.”

**

Rey Niima’s going to kill him. All the worst motherfucking mercenaries Afghanistan had to offer couldn’t manage it, but a hundred pound girl with doe eyes is going to be the fucking death of Poe Dameron.

It’s just further proof of that statement when she gasps out, still clenching down on his fingers – and God, it’s never been like this, has it? Never felt like this, so hot and tight and _good_ – what exactly it is she wants.

“I want you on top of me while you fuck me with your fingers. Want three. Or—” she cuts herself off with a drawn out moan when he drags his thumb up and around her clit once more. “Or four.”

Poe goes stiller than he had after he’d been electrocuted. “Jesus.” He licks his lips, one hand on her hip, other still buried in her. “That’s…” It’s a lot, to be honest. It’s a lot not to blow his load right here in his pants like a fucking teenager.

“I can take it,” she whimpers, bearing down on his middle and pointer finger. Poe groans. “Please, I can do it.”

“Know you can, sweetheart,” he assures her. He slides his fingers out and manages to get up without doing something stupid like falling off the bed or hitting her in the chin with his head. Poe maneuvers a shaking Rey down onto the bed. He carefully puts a hand on each of her knees and spreads them open so he can kneel between her gorgeous, long legs. Then, he tries his hardest not to come in his pants at the sight of her. _Jesus. Jesus Christ. God. Please let me make this good for her._

Poe ducks in to kiss her. Rey hums into it, her lips slotting against his perfectly and arches her back prettily so her nipples brush against his chest. He sits up slightly and kisses each one before he reaches back down, and the sounds she makes, God, the sounds she makes are making him think that he’d happily never hear another sound as long as he lives and he’d be alright with it.

Poe continues to gently suck on her left breast as he teases her entrance. Rey bucks her hips and grabs his wrist. “Please,” she says. “Please, please, please.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he laughs into her skin. He works her back up and adds the third finger, per her request. Poe props his weight up on his left forearm, and watches hungrily as her body accepts his fingers, watching as he disappears into her over and over again.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Fuck, sweetheart, look at you. Taking it so well for me.” He twists a little bit, finds that spot he’s only been brushing so far, and pushes with a little more force against it.

Rey half-screams, whole body arching off the bed.

“Thank you,” she whimpers, and it’s unclear if she means for what he’s doing or what he just told her. And Poe tries not to let _that_ interfere with his current mission, focusing his energy on continuing to move his hand even though it feels like she’s kicked him off the back of a plane with no parachute.

Hell. He’ll try it, and she can punch him for it later, if she wants. _I want you to be in control,_ her whispered confession in his passenger seat from last week crawls through his mind. Yeah. He’ll definitely try it. Poe leans down to kiss each perfect, flushed tit, and drags his open mouth up her collarbone to her throat, and then her jaw, all the while twisting his fingers inside her. He stops, mouth hovering over her lips. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart, you’re doing so well,” Poe praises her. Rey’s staring at him, totally lost in the pleasure, and he’s never seen anything like it, her wide hazel eyes trusting and glazed over. “You're so good. You're so fucking good, best fucking thing I've ever seen. Do you think you could cum for me?” Rey whimpers but doesn't say anything. "I asked a question, sweetheart. Tell me, do you think you can cum like this?"

Rey closes her eyes and nods, fervently. "Yes," she gasps. "Yes, Poe." Her hands, both clammy and warm, run along his back, scratching at him lightly, and Poe groans.

"Love it when you say my name," he tells her. He's told her before, but it's the fucking truth, so he'll tell her again. He pumps his fingers harder into her, relishing the way she grips at him. "C'mon, sweetheart. Come for me." He growls the order, left hand toying with one of her breasts. 

Rey screams for real this time, and clenches down on him, eyes open wide in surprise. “Good girl,” he says into her open mouth, meaning it. Rey tightens at the endearment, one hand grabbing at his wrist seemingly to pull him into her more, so yeah, he'll be using that one in the future (with her permission of course).

He works her through her orgasm, kissing her ferociously, fucking his tongue into her mouth at the same rate he thrusts into her.

When she goes boneless on the bed, he stills his hand, appreciating the way her body continues to tighten sporadically. He kisses her gently, and draws his fingers out. He tucks away the memory of her whimpering at the loss of contact, and wipes his hand on the covers, not caring that he’ll have to wash the sheets later.

Poe holds his body weight over her while he kisses her, well aware that she’s naked and he’s fully clothed. He hasn’t even touched his dick yet, but he knows that he’s unbearably close to coming. “Sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Did so good, so, so good for me.” Rey’s hand is in his hair, suddenly, and she pulls at the short curls at the nape of his neck in a way that’s just on the right side of pain.

It’s his turn to gasp and beg as her clever fingers find the zipper of his pants. He jerks forward when she gets a hand in his boxers and pulls his weeping cock out. She wraps her fingers around him.

“Don’t know what I’m doing,” she tells him, and he’s so thrown by the fact that her hips are still thrusting upwards, seeking friction, seeking him, that he barely remembers to respond.

“Doesn’t matter,” he growls, ducking to kiss her before sitting up so he can kneel between her legs. “Anything you do will work, fuck, want you so bad.” She strokes him once out of curiosity and Poe’s pretty sure he’s seeing the face of God.

He thrusts his hips into her grip, moaning at the drag of her hand against his aching cock. “Works a little better when it isn’t so dry,” he tells her, because she clearly wants to learn, and while he doesn’t need anything extra right now, he wants to try this with her as many times as she’ll let him.

Rey licks the palm of her other hand without reservation and rubs it over the head of his dick. Yeah, that’s going in his “for a rainy day” collection. “Like that?” she asks, still panting from her own orgasm, but intensely focused on her task.

“Mhm,” he nods, eyes closing as he continues to fuck up into her hand. “Yeah, just like that. _¡Joder! No pare hermosa, no pare._ ” He hears her laugh, but it’s a sweet, wondering laugh, and she twists her wrist a little, maybe by accident. Poe’s eyes open and he sees her staring up at him. “Can I—I’m going to cum, sweetheart. Can I…can I...on you?” It’s something they’d talked about earlier– he never could have imagined it’d actually come up, pun intended, this quickly – he looks at her body trying to further indicate what he wants, his balls drawing up just envisioning how she’ll look if she lets him, and she nods, shyly, biting her lip.

“Yeah, of course,” she says. "You can come on me." _Oh fuck, he's never going to forget **that** , is he? _Poe takes over jerking his cock and just watches her lovely face as she gazes at him in open curiosity and interest. Rey Niima is a fucking gift from heaven and he doesn’t deserve her, and that’s the last thought that crosses his mind before it whites out.

He collapses, groaning, on the bed next to her, trying hard not to crush her in his post-coital haze.

Somehow he gets his shit together enough to get up and grab a towel from the bathroom so he can help her clean up, and then he climbs back into bed and lies on his back. He places a hand on her small waist because he needs to touch her, somehow.

“What are you thinking?” He asks, because he has to know, he has to know she’s okay with what just happened.

“I’m thinking that was really nice and...I like it when you tell me I do something well,” Rey’s got her back to him, and her hand has come up to shield the side of her face.

“Good,” Poe rolls over so he’s tucked in against her back, praying she doesn’t mind that he’s still wearing clothes.  _He needs to tell her, now, why he's still wearing clothes._ But Poe's a coward, and he doesn't want to ruin this. 

Instead, he huffs into her hair after he wraps his arms around her. “And I’ll keep telling you, because fuck sweetheart, never seen anything as good as you.” He runs his mouth along her shoulder and glories in the way she shivers from it. “You ready for another?” Poe asks, already tripping his fingers up her slender thigh.

“Will you fuck me?” Rey responds with another question, and Poe fights the urge to whimper.

“I’d love to, Sunshine,” he’s sheepish now. “But I, uh. I need to rest up, first.” Besides, there are so many things about him that she doesn’t know yet, that he’d be a horrible person not to share with her before she gave that part of herself to him, and he’s just not ready for that yet.

“Okay,” Rey wiggles her hips until her ass is flush against him. It’s a great ass, and it’s certainly reducing his refractory period. “Whenever you’re ready, old man.”

Poe snorts into her hair and then strokes it out of the way to kiss her neck. He lazily runs his hand up and down her side, whispering to her in English and Spanish how wonderful she is, how incredible, how perfect.

She falls asleep, eventually, and Poe rests his forehead between her shoulder blades and tries to count the reasons why he should be allowed to be this lucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from the amazing TV on the Radio song, "[Ambulance](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UFY4zSVrjDo)"
> 
>  
> 
> Hopefully their constant communication makes up for how intense this was? Eep? (Poe has more he needs to communicate, clearly.)
> 
> (Upcoming chapters get pretty heavy in the angst/we get reasons why Poe doesn't take his clothes off/his experiences as a POW)


	8. I Needed a Roadmap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe and Rey snuggle; Poe and Finn have a talk; Rey and Poe go on a date, it goes well until it doesn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating for this chapter: M
> 
> warning: major angst. Poe has a pretty bad anxiety attack that causes him to shut down; it's caused by Rey, accidentally, in the middle of an intimate moment. 
> 
> warning 2: more angst: Rey responds very badly to causing Poe anxiety, and she does not handle the situation well/has her own self-hatred thoughts/recalls abuse/thinks Poe's going to hit her (he isn't/won't ever, but she's in fight or flight)

Rey wakes up in Poe’s bed, still naked, but with a soft blanket covering her. The clock next to the bed says 0030; she’s been asleep for about an hour. Poe isn’t anywhere in sight, but the mattress next to her is still warm. She stretches, rolling onto her back, unfurling her legs and pointing her toes, raising her arms above her head. Rey shakes her shoulders out while sitting up, her hands bracing her weight behind her. The blanket slips off her shoulders and pools around her waist.

“Uh, hey, Sunshine.” Rey’s eyes dart to the doorway. Poe’s standing there holding a glass of water, and he’s changed into pajamas: flannel bottoms and a long-sleeved t-shirt. Still half-asleep, Rey briefly considers asking him why he never wears short sleeves.

Poe’s gaping mouth snaps shut when he smiles at her, sweetly. He’s blushing, which makes Rey laugh lightly because he’s seen every inch of her, he’s touched her, been inside her, and he’s still blushing just looking at her.

“Where’d you go?’ She asks, purposefully stretching her arms out again just to see if she can make him blush harder. She can.

“Only been gone twenty minutes. I just needed to walk Bee and get some water.” He walks into the room hesitantly, as if he’s afraid he’ll startle her.

“And change?” She asks, inquisitively, while he draws near to the bed.

“Well, yeah,” he sits down on the edge of the bed, and keeps smiling at her. “Much more comfortable to sleep in this.”

“You could take a page out of my book,” Rey suggests coyly. “Get naked.” She pokes at his butt through the blanket with her foot.

Poe tenses. Not a lot, but she can see it. _God fucking damnit, shut the hell up, asshole._ Before she can change the subject, he laughs. His shoulders don’t lose their tension. “What? Walk Bee naked? I’d be the talk of the neighborhood, Ms. Niima.” His voice sounds right, a perfected jovial cadence, but Poe keeps staring at the ground.

Rey decides to laugh too, if only to hide how worried she is. “An absolute shame, Major Dameron,” she scoots over slightly and pats the bed next to her loudly enough to get his attention. “Now they’ll have nothing to talk about at their next meeting.” Poe smiles at her, and it’s warm and slow like syrup, running through her lazily and making her think that maybe everything’s okay.

“How was your nap, sweetheart?” Poe asks her as he stretches out, laying his head on a pillow. She can feel his hand comes up to hover near her back, not quite touching her.

“Good,” Rey says, suddenly shy. She stares at the wall in front of her and sets her jaw. “Poe?”

“Yeah, Sunshine?”

Rey closes her eyes. She can sense the warmth of his hand over her back. _Tell me what you want_ , Poe had told her. _Always tell me._ “Will you hold me?” Rey asks him, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice, hating how needy she sounds.

A large, calloused hand comes to stroke down her back, and Rey arches into it. “Of course,” he answers, voice rougher than it was before. “Come here, sweetheart.”

Rey twists so she can lie down on her side and tucks her face into Poe’s shoulder. He runs his fingers through her hair, and it feels so nice she digs her nails into his chest. He makes a small noise in the back of his throat, and she hopes it’s a good noise.

Rey leans in to kiss his chest, right over where she thinks his heart is. He makes another, softer noise. She rests her chin on his sternum and smiles at him. Poe smiles back, and continues to run his hands slowly over her exposed skin. She shivers, so he reaches over and pulls the blanket over them.

He’s wearing a necklace or a chain around his neck, and she can see the outline of something under his thin shirt. There’s something circular, something rectangular. She has half a mind to ask him about it, but his eyes are fluttering shut. “Sorry if I snore,” he says jokingly. Bee huffs judgmentally from the floor.

“He says you’re not sorry,” Rey drily translates.

“What can I say, I’m feeling pretty good right now.” Poe grins, eyes closed. “Goodnight, Rey.”

“Goodnight, Poe.” Rey whispers.

He falls asleep in a few minutes, and she rests her head on his chest, listening to the soft thud of his heartbeat under her ear. She counts each beat, the resonance echoing down to somewhere deep inside of her, somewhere she wasn’t aware even existed until she met him.

**

Poe wakes up with Rey in his arms, and every inch of him is incredibly aware of how right it feels. _Stay,_ he wants to tell her. He wants to kiss her awake, press himself against her, tuck her away somewhere safe inside of him so he can feel this way forever, so he can work on making her happy forever. _Please, stay,_ he wants to say _._ But he can’t ask that of her. He can’t hope to pin her down, not when she’s so young, and sweet, and innocent.

He’d slept like a rock last night; he was finally able to get to sleep. Every dream he had was of Rey, so every dream he had was a good one. Now that he knows what she sounds like – _God,_ he way she sounds– when he’s got three fingers buried inside her, what she sounds like when she comes, he hopes it’s all he can dream about ever again.

Rey makes a quiet noise and nestles in closer to him, and he tightens his arms around her. He dares to drop a kiss into her soft hair, and the ring around his neck slides against his sleep-warmed skin. Poe’s still waking up slowly, so he spends more than a few minutes letting himself daydream about what it would look like on Rey’s finger.

After a while, he runs her fingers through her hair, and the sleeping woman in his arms makes a noise similar to a pleased cat and shifts. “Good morning,” she says sweetly, stretching to kiss him on the neck.  

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Poe returns, and it’s easy, it’s so fucking easy, he just wants to be like this forever. _Yeah? You wanna be too afraid to have sex with her, forever? You wanna be too chickenshit to tell her about Tekka, Muran, the chair, all of it, forever?_

“I can hear you thinking,” she laughs into his skin, and it does a decent job of grounding him. “And I’m sure you couldn’t help but notice that I’m still very naked.”

By now, the picture of naked Rey is burned into his brain, in a very good way. But it doesn’t beat the real thing, so he peeks down at her under the blanket anyway. “Huh, what d'you know? You _are_ naked.”

Rey laughs and pokes him in the stomach, wriggling away from him. Poe makes a wounded noise and reaches out for her. She catches his hand and kisses the palm tenderly, and yeah. Yeah. He stands by his original assessment from last night. Rey’s going to be the death of him.

“Want something to wear?” He asks her. She nods, cheeks flushed and lip caught between her teeth. Poe gets out of bed, gravity working against him much stronger than normal, and grabs one of his clean sweatshirts from his bottom dresser drawer. “Here.” He throws it to her, and she pulls it over her head so quickly he doesn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to her breasts.

“Excuse you?”

 _Oh fuck, he said that out loud._ His face is burning now. Rey grins at him, and she kneels on the bed, toying with the edge of the sweatshirt. “Oh, alright then, say goodbye.” She giggles and peels the bottom half up, giving him a very uninterrupted, very welcome view of her entire torso.

“Meep,” is probably what Poe says. Rey laughs harder, pulling the sweatshirt back down even as he stumbles helpless towards the bed.

“Sorry, what was that?” She teases him and stands up to be face to face with him. The sweatshirt he’d given her is one from the Academy, one he’d bought to fight the winter nights of Colorado, and it’s – it’s a really good look on her. She isn’t much shorter than he is, but she’s much narrower, and somehow the _suggestion_ of her subtle curves under the loose clothing, his clothing, is almost as tantalizing as Rey wearing nothing at all.

“Like what you see, Major?” Rey talks again, probably confused about why Poe isn’t talking. He’d never had a problem talking first, talking all the time. But, Christ, something about Rey throws him off his axis. He nods, fervently, and looks at her with a question raging in his mind, and it just barely gets out of his mouth.

“Can I kiss you?” He sounds desperate, starved, and he groans before he even touches her, he groans the second she nods, and they tumble back to the bed, wrapped in each other.

It’s the best morning he’s had in years. Probably ever.

***

Around 0830, Rey goes to the bathroom and comes back pulling on her jeans from last night.

Poe lifts his head from the pillows half-heartedly and looks at her. “Real world?” He asks, sadly.

“Afraid so, Dameron. I have some work to catch up on at school,” Rey leans down and kisses him on the nose. “So I’m going to walk to campus.”

“Can I walk with you?” He asks, eagerly. Poe swears Bee rolls his eyes at him from the foot of the bed, and he can almost hear him saying, _Down, boy_. He jabs a finger at the dog warningly while Rey has her back turned, pulling her hair into a high ponytail.  

Rey laughs. “Don’t you have somewhere more important to be?” She turns to quirk an eyebrow at him, but she looks self-conscious, hugging her arms around her, swamped in his too-big sweatshirt.

“There’s nowhere more important for me to be, not anywhere in the galaxy,” he swears, tugging on her sleeve so she’ll look him in the eyes and know it’s true.

She relents, and after he gets dressed and grabs Bee’s leash, she lets him hold her hand all the way to campus.

***

Poe wanders into The Resistance even though Rey is off today. He likes their coffee almost as much as he likes their baristas, after all.

Finn Trooper hands him his drink with a cheeky smile which Poe returns. He takes the mug to a table and takes out his notebook. He writes for about half an hour. Like always, he writes about everything and anything, anything but the war.

Someone sits down across from him, and Poe looks up, somewhat dazed from the bubble he’d built around himself. Finn’s regarding him curiously, and Poe smiles nervously at him.

“Hey, Finn.”

“Hey, Dameron,” Finn cracks his knuckles and rests them on the table. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Warily, he answers, “Yeah, we can talk.”

“Okay,” Finn nods and straightens his shoulders. “Okay, Dameron. Let’s talk about Rey.” Poe’s dated a lot of people. Some even became actual relationships. So, he knows a shovel talk when he sees one.

“I like talking about Rey,” Poe says slowly, unsure if it’s the right thing to say. Finn’s face makes knowing if it was or not impossible.

“I bet you do, flyboy,” Finn’s eyes squint. Fuck. So it was the wrong thing to say. “I bet you do.”

Poe opens his mouth to say something, anything, God, he used to be so clever, but Finn cuts him off. “Nah, I just need you to listen right now. Because Rey hasn’t ever really had a lot of people in her corner. But me and Rose? We are her corner. So you’re going to listen, now.” Poe snaps his mouth shut and nods to show he understands.

“Alright, good. I’m sure you noticed, Poe, but Rey’s special. Real special. She and I both had a shit deal growing up, and we reacted differently to it. Neither of us had a family, and we won the shit lottery with the foster system. When I was a teenager, I got caught up in some bad shit, illegal shit. I went to juvie, and I had – still have – a huge ass chip on my shoulder.” Finn, for all his swagger, is a typically genial person, so Poe’s a little surprised at this information.

“I got my GED, turned my life around, and now I’m working on my Bachelor’s. And let me tell you, it’s fucking awful sometimes. I never paid enough attention in school. I’m real good at history, even better at languages, but I’m not so great at math or science. And fuck, Rey – no matter how tired she is, or how busy – she explains that shit to me every single time. She’ll explain it over and over again, a big smile on her face, because she’s _kind_ , you know?” Yeah, Poe knows.

“Anyway, Rey’s childhood was as bad as mine, if not worse. Some of the shit that happened to her.” Finn shakes his head, angrily. “I won’t tell you because it’s her story, but fuck. It was enough to make anyone an asshole, and I’m sure she left the worst parts out when she told us. Like I’m an asshole sometimes. I’m working on it, I am, but _Rey._ She’s good. All the fucking awful things that happened to her, it just made her kind. She just wants to help everyone, make the world a little less shitty, and the universe keeps handing her garbage. And she looks at the garbage, and she says ‘that will do,’ and she takes it and she turns it into something good. But, she’s had enough shit in her life. So I’m telling you, not asking you. Don’t be another shitty thing in her life.”

Poe clenches his fists under the table, and he can feel how clammy his palms are. It’s clearly his turn to talk. “I know you have no reason to believe me. But – and knowing that I can’t promise to never hurt her, because no one can promise that – I want you to know that the idea of hurting Rey. It makes me physically sick. I mean that.”

Finn narrows his eyes and examines him. Poe’s reminded of the drill sergeant who used to make him shit himself whenever he so much as examined his bunk. “I believe you.”

Poe nods. “Thanks. It’s good to know that Rey has people who loves her in her corner. God knows she deserves it.”

“She really does.” They sit in silence for a minute, not looking at each other. “All right, that’s enough of that.” Finn slaps the table. “My shift’s over. Wanna grab a drink?”

Poe stares at him in confusion and answers honestly. “I’m not supposed to drink on my current medication.”

“Ah, gotcha.” Finn doesn’t even bat an eye. “Would it bug you to watch someone else drink?”

“Nah,” Poe shakes his head. “At least, I don’t think so.” To be fair, he hasn’t really done a lot of social things lately. You know, besides expose his crush on a pretty barista in front of a crowd of strangers.

“Cool,” Finn smiles wide and easy at him, laugh-wrinkles forming around his handsome face. “In that case, wanna watch me drink a shit ton of beer?”

Poe throws his head back and laughs. “Sure.”

They stand up and start walking towards the door. Poe drops his mug in the dirty dishes tray on the way out. “I think there’s a game on,” Finn says conversationally.

“Eh, yeah, but it’s the wrong kind of football,” Poe shrugs, pulling his jacket on when they step outside.

Finn stares at him, a grin lighting his face. “You a soccer fan, Poe?”

“Love soccer,” Poe says enthusiastically. “Best game in the world.”

He twitches forward when Finn slaps him on the shoulder, and he’s proud of himself that he doesn’t immediately spiral into an anxiety attack. “I think we’re gonna get along just fine, Dameron.”

They talk about their favorite teams as they head towards the Cantina. It’s about a ten minute walk, and the early winter air is bracing. He’d always hated the cold growing up, but after the desert, he doesn’t mind it as much.

Poe pauses outside the door to the bar, regarding it warily. “Do you think they’ll let Bee in?” he asks.

“You fuckin’ kidding me? Lando loves dogs,” Finn laughs and rolls his eyes before moving to push the door open. Poe follows him inside as Finn explains, “There’s a regular here who sits at the bar with this giant wolfhound. Lando feeds it scraps, and it drives the owner nuts.”

Wolfhound? Regular at a bar? “Do you mean Han Solo?” Poe asks while they take a seat at a high top. He cranes his neck towards the bar to see if he can see the old pilot.

“You know him?”

“Since I was a kid. He and my mom served together,” Poe shrugs, not seeing Han, and turns back to Finn. “I know his son, too.”

Finn’s face darkens. “Well, half of that is good to hear.” Then he smiles, again, clearly trying to brighten the mood. “Your mom must have some crazy stories.”

“She did, yeah,” Poe stares down at his hands, ears burning, waiting for the regular question.  _When did she die?_  It doesn’t come. He chances a glance back up, and Finn’s smiling at him warmly.

“That’s awesome, man. Hey, does that mean you know Senator Organa?”

Poe cracks up. “I knew her when I was real little, like three or four. My mom flew her around a couple times when she was the First Daughter, and they got along like a house on fire.”

“Fuck, I miss President Amidala.” Finn shakes his head. “I guess changing your name runs in the family. Hey, I’m gonna go grab that drink, you want a soda or water?” He says it calmly, kindly, not mockingly like Poe had feared. Poe asks for a water, and he settles into his chair.

This is normal. He can be normal.

**

***

Poe and Rey go for a walk in a park after her only seminar of the day, as it’s slightly warmer, if more overcast, than it had been in a week. Rey’s still smiling because Poe had saved some bread from his lunch to feed to the birds in the lake; he had then been _horrified_ when Rey told him how bad bread was for ducks. She told him apologetically, not wanting to upset the ducks’ stomach or Poe, but of course she shouldn’t have been worried. Poe had wrapped the bread up firmly, resolutely, and marched over to a pet store to buy bird feed that Google had told him was acceptable for ducks (which had involved a lengthy and amusing conversation with Siri where he tried to suss out the best possible brand, “ _Yeah, I get that it has a duck on the package, Siri, but what’s the best seed for **actual** ducks?_ ” stumbling around the sidewalk as he focused on the screen, all of which only made Rey like him more).

Now, he’s throwing seed into the lake and ducks are waddling up the shore to investigate the stocky man in the leather jacket who’s trying to stuff them to the gills. Bee barks suspiciously at one particularly curious duck that’s trying to become friends with the canine, and Rey laughs, letting the dog bump into her shins in its haste to back away from the potentially dangerous bird.

Rey’s laughing at Poe and his eagerness to feed the animals, and she’s laughing from the feeling she gets just being around Poe, when she feels the first raindrop. She tilts her head back to the sky and feels another, and another collide with her upturned face. She smiles uncontrollably and stretches her hands out, twisting her wrists around so her palms can collect the cold water as the rain picks up pace.

“Let’s get you out of the rain before you melt away, sugar,” Poe calls over the increasingly loud din of rainfall.

“Sugar melts, but shit floats,” she answers without thinking. “I’ll be fine.”

Bee barks at her, and her eyes are closed, her face still upturned when she feels a light tug at her sleeve. Rey opens her eyes to see Poe standing in front of her, a soft smile on his handsome face. “Come on, Rey,” he insists. “Let’s get you someplace dry.” Rey can’t move, can’t talk because Poe Dameron is too fucking pretty for her to think right.

After over a month of dating, she thought she’d be used to it. But she’s never seen Poe Dameron wet, and here he is looking like sin: his ever-growing curls flattened to his head, raindrops tracing paths down his jaw and neck, paths she wants to follow with her tongue; water slipping over his lips, down his chin, creating rivulets that dampen his shirt and make it cling to his muscular chest.

Rey’s well aware that she probably looks like a half-drowned rat since she’s soaking from the rain. But her mouth is very dry, and all she can do is stare at Poe. Now he’s staring back; his face suggests that he doesn’t find her appearance wanting in the least.

“Come on,” he says urgently, tugging at her sleeve again. His gaze is heated as it travels the length of her body, and lands on her lips. Rey’s almost surprised they aren’t causing steam in the cold rain because things between them feel like they’re set to catch on fire with the smallest of sparks.

She nods, and then finds her voice, her hand coming to cover his own on her arm. “Race you,” she says solemnly. Rey turns and sprints for the parking lot. She can hear the slap of Poe’s feet on the pavement behind her, and she laughs, wildly, in a way she hasn’t laughed since she was ten years old, and Ben Kenobi was still alive to encourage her to laugh as loudly as possible and without restraint. Poe’s answering laugh is just as loud, and it’s getting closer, which sends a thrill through her. _What’s he going to do if he catches me?_ she wonders, the thought making her want to both speed up and slow down.

They reach the car, and the lights flash as Poe unlocks it. They run to their respective doors, and Rey stops to let Bee into the back. That adds about two seconds onto her time, so Poe jumps in on his side milliseconds before she does.

“That doesn’t count,” Rey insists before he can say anything. She slams the door shut behind her, and suddenly the only sound is the rain clattering against the roof of the car. Bee huffs unhappily from the back, where he’s found a warm towel on the ground, and Rey shoots him a cheerful grin before looking over at Poe. Her heart pounds in her chest, in her throat, in her ears when she sees that he’s staring at her. She has a feeling he’s been staring at her since she got in the car.

Poe looks at her like there’s something there to see. He looks at her like there’s something in her that he likes (maybe even more than likes, which makes her stomach twist). His face is an open book, and right now it’s telling her that he wants her. Rey’s more than on the same page, so she leans forward and tries to show him as well as she can with her body language that she wants him to kiss her. Then she remembers that he prefers verbal confirmation, so she says, “Kiss me, please, please Poe, I really want you to—” and she’s cut off abruptly as he crashes towards her with a strangled moan and kisses her like she wanted him to.

His mouth is hot, a strange and pleasant contrast to the water drenching their clothes and hair, and Rey needs more. She needs more of Poe now, always. His hands are on her neck, in her hair, gripping her shoulder, burning her skin wherever he touches, and he moans into her mouth as she runs her tongue along the seam of his lips. They’re kissing over the console which creates a most unwelcome distance between them, so Rey throws caution to the wind and scoots over the parking brake, twisting and throwing her leg as carefully as she can over his hips until she’s straddling him. Part of her is worried she’ll do something ridiculous like sit on the horn, but every other part of her is consumed with wanting to feel him under her.

Poe bucks his hips up, and Rey tries to grind back down while kissing his neck, the combination of which earns her a groan of appreciation. His hands go to her hips, and she teasingly grabs his wrists. “Nuh uh,” she scolds, wrapping her fingers around his forearms and pushing them back down playfully against the seat. Rey resumes her examination of his neck. She wants to discover everything she can about Poe Dameron, and in this happy bubble they’ve created in a November rainstorm, she thinks it might finally be time to do just that. So she tightens her grip on his wrists in a way she hopes won’t be too much, and presses her lips sharply into the skin under his jaw while she sits down in his lap with more force.

As a survivor of an extremely abusive situation, Rey can sense a mood change through adjustments of body language, millimeters worth of facial expression change, or certain modulations of tone. It’s how she can feel Poe Dameron shift underneath her and know something is immediately, very wrong. She lets go of him and sits up and off of him as well as she can without pulling away completely.

“Poe?” She asks, voice quavering. “Is something wrong?” The rain pounds over their heads and lashes against the window. Rey can only focus on the shaking of his Adam’s apple, the way his throat works around words that clearly can’t form, the shallow quality of his breathing. Bee’s jumped up on the console and is nosing his owner worriedly.  “Do you want me to get off of you?”

Poe still doesn’t respond, and his breathing gets more high-pitched. Rey shifts to get off of him, and he stiffens further at the movement, so she freezes. “Hey,” she whispers, blinking back tears. Her hands hover over his chest, not touching him. “Hey, Poe, it’s just me. It’s just Rey. Rey Niima. You’re – you’re safe. We’re in your car, it’s raining, we’re in North Carolina, Bee is here. We...we fed the ducks today, and you were happy. We were happy, and we’re safe, and no one’s going to hurt you.” Her voice cracks unbearably on the promise, because she hates that he was ever hurt and she hates that she’s somehow contributed to the pile of hurt the universe has laid against him, and she bites her lip hard to stop a sob from coming out.

Poe’s breathing continues to slow down throughout her ramble, and he puts a hand on Bee’s head as if to anchor himself into the moment. Rey’s shaking like a leaf, suddenly impossibly cold. Overhead, the rain slows and stops, and she tries to think about an individual drop of water twisting through the air, beautiful and unique, its trajectory mathematically mappable and destined before it careens into the ground. At least she and the drop of water have one thing in common.

He finally opens his eyes after several minutes of her frozen terror and looks at her. Her stomach clenches at how tired he looks. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, moving to pull all the way off of him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry.” It’s all she can say because it’s all she can feel, and he’s either too tired or too done with her to stop her from getting off his lap. Rey huddles in the corner of her seat, and she wraps her arms around herself, shivering violently.

“Why are you sorry?” he asks her groggily. Poe digs around the console for something. He finds a half-empty water bottle and drinks heavily from it, and Rey squeezes her eyes shut, waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to do something about how much she fucked up.

“I’m sorry for upsetting you. I’m sorry for hurting you,” she lists mechanically. “I’m sorry for being a fuck-up.”

“Rey,” Poe sounds sad, and very serious in just that one syllable. “You aren’t a fuck up. You couldn’t have known I’d react like that. Hell, I didn’t know I’d react like that.” His voice is still ragged, and he stops to drink some more water. Bee whines next to her, and she can hear Poe stroking the dog even with her eyes closed.

“Are you okay?” Rey asks, hating how small her voice sounds, hating how small she feels.

“Yeah, yeah,” he lightly taps the seat next to her. “Are you?”

Rey nods, and opens her eyes, so she can look at him, and it hurts to see how tired he looks, how wild-eyed he still is, how his hands are still shaking.  Bee sits in his lap, sniffing his face worriedly while Poe clearly tries to calm himself down so she’ll feel better. Because, of course that’s why he’s putting a brave face on, for her, even though she ruined everything like she always does. Then her breath catches, the traitor, and she hiccups and starts to cry earnestly. “I’m sorry,” she manages to choke out. “You’re the one with the reason to be upset, and I’m just,” she shrugs helplessly. “I’ll go.”

“What?” Poe looks even sadder now. “No, Rey, it’s okay--” He reaches out to her suddenly. Too suddenly. She flinches hard, shoulder slamming against the door. His hand freezes, and he looks even more winded, horrified even.

“I’m sorry for upsetting you,” Rey tells him, wiping at her eyes, frustrated with herself for making this about her. “I’m so sorry, Poe. You deserve better. It won’t happen again.” Because she won’t let it happen again. Rey smiles at him as well as she can through her tears, but she can’t fight the roaring darkness inside of her, the one screaming at her to _run, get out now, get out while you can, get out before he hits you, before you hurt him even more, you’re a monster, he can see right through you._ Rey squeezes her eyes shut and presses her hands to her temples.

“Rey?” Poe’s trying to get her attention. _Probably to tell you how much he hates you, how badly you fucked up, it’s all your fault._

_Run._

Without looking at Poe again, she opens her door, throwing herself out into the parking lot.

“Rey!” She can hear Poe shouting, but she’s already sprinting across the parking lot. She hurls herself into the tree line and crashes down through the woods. Twigs and branches catch at her, digging at her exposed skin, making small angry lines and slashes where they whip against her. One catches her full on the cheek but she just ignores it, ignores the pain and the fresh wave of tears that threatens to overwhelm her. She’s pathetic, and cruel, and useless, just like everyone who’s always been around her for any length of time has told her. Finn and Rose don’t think so, but they’ve only known her for two years. Everyone else figures it out in the end, and even if they don’t, they die.

Everyone leaves, and she’s sure she just gave Poe a good reason to.

Rey’s good at ruining things, and she’s good at running. She managed to do both today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh.


	9. Every Dream Has a Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe and Rey discuss what happened, and there are some brief soft times; Poe has a nightmare about the day he was captured

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tags: bisexual!Poe; Poe/Male Character, relationship: PTSD; torture; probably inaccurate military things
> 
> Rating: M for extreme violence/character death/disturbing imagery
> 
> Warning: Rey reflects on the abuse she experienced as a child, and she's internalized a lot of the horrible things that were said to her.  
> Warning 2: Poe's nightmare (his POV starts after the asterisks if you want to skip it) involves watching all his friends die; his friends are all executed after suffering various levels of harm; Poe's last sexual partner dies from breaking his neck, which Poe witnesses, at least in the dream; Poe references a lot of the torture he suffered; a major character dies, but just in the dream.
> 
> Also not really a warning, more of a disclaimer: Both my parents were military but I don't know that much about the military because they refused to talk about it, so let's just assume that I'm mixing elements of Star Wars military logic/events with real world things, and I'm sorry for any inaccuracies!

Rey runs until her legs threaten to give out, and she collapses a few blocks away from her apartment. She’s sure she makes quite the sight, covered in mud with twigs buried in her hair and clothing, but she’s past caring. It’s so cold, and her clothes haven’t dried despite her sprint through Raleigh. The skin of her upper arms is clammy when she crosses her hands over her chest and wraps them around her biceps. She left her jacket in Poe’s car, and she’s hoping Finn will go and pick it up for her.

 _Coward,_ a voice that sounds like Plutt whispers to her. _All you ever do is use people, you useless piece of shit._

Rey can’t banish the voice like she usually can. All she can see is Poe Dameron underneath her, shaking in fear from her carelessness. _Not soft enough,_ the ghost of her crappy social worker taunts her. _No one’s ever going to love you when you’re all hard edges._

It’s dark out, and Rey’s still shivering violently when she walks up to her complex. She stops in her tracks when she sees a familiar form sitting under the light out on the front steps.

Poe stares at her as he gets to his feet, and she makes herself finish walking up the rest of the sidewalk, unsure if it’s fear or grief or just the plain sight of Poe that’s making her heart speed up like this.

“Hi,” she whispers when she’s at the foot of the stairs, her shoulders still trembling from the flip side of her adrenaline rush and the cold. “Sorry for uh, running off? I just. I didn’t think you’d want me around after that.”

Poe’s still staring at her, and his expression, for all Rey’s usual skill in reading people, is indiscernible.

“I’m really sorry, and I just, I get it. I get it if you don’t want me around because why would you want someone around who could do that to you, and--” Rey blinks back tears. Seriously, she never cries, and then she meets one pretty man with soft eyes and a kind heart, and it’s like she’s in the fucking Babysitter’s Club.  “I’m so fucking sorry, Poe. I never want to hurt you, and I’m sorry. I get that I ruined everything, and I’m sorry. I guess you know why I call myself a human disaster now.” And her voice hitches on the last two words, which sucks because she doesn’t want him to think her any weirder or more pathetic than she actually is - _which is a lot_ \- and Poe doesn’t say anything, he just walks down the last few steps slowly until he’s standing in front of her.

Rey wipes her eyes furiously, and sniffs, resisting the urge to wipe her nose with the back of her hand as well. _Have some dignity, Niima._

“Rey.” She makes herself look at him when he says her name because how could she not? He doesn’t sound angry, and the look in his eyes is pure agony as he regards her current state. “Sweetheart, you’re bleeding.” His hand reaches out, still slightly shaking, just inches away from her cheek, where she knows she made full facial contact with a low hanging twig. Maybe a branch. She didn’t stop to ask it.

“Sorry,” she sniffs again, turning her head so he can’t see her bleed, can’t see her cry.

“Rey,” Poe shifts audibly, his feet scraping the ground. “Please look at me.” She obeys, she’s ruined his day after all, it’s the least she can do. She grits her teeth and looks him in the face. Poe looks upset, and tired, and it just adds to the knot of guilt and self-hatred in her stomach. “Rey, please don’t shut me out.” _What_? “I know I’ve said in the past that if I got to be too much, you’d be totally within your rights -- hell, I’d completely understand it – if you left me. And if that’s what this is, I’ll get in my car and go. But I don’t think that’s what this is. Sunshine, I was worried sick. I couldn’t find you, I had no idea if you were safe. I was out of my mind.”

Poe breathes through his nose heavily. “I had no idea I’d react like that, Rey, so don’t blame yourself for not knowing either. I haven’t had an anxiety attack from something like that since I got back because you’re the first person I’ve been with since I got back.” Rey hadn’t known that, hadn’t known what to assume. It certainly hadn’t felt like her place to speculate. “But now we know, yeah? And I can work on it in therapy, and I’m sorry that seeing me like that upset you, and fuck, I’m sorry that I upset you.”

“You didn’t,” she interrupts him because it’s the lesser evil to letting him think any of this is his fault. “Poe, I just wanted to help you. I ran because I thought you’d hate me for making you feel like this, and I hated myself for putting you in that position.” _And I was afraid you’d hit me,_ a traitorous voice in the back of her mind accuses her. _How can you say you trust him, but then assume the worst?_

“No, Rey,” Poe shakes his head. “No. No, please don’t think like that. Please don’t push me away because you think you’ll hurt me. You won’t. You couldn’t. The only way I would have been hurt today is if _you’d_ gotten hurt. Whether while you were running or… or…” He looks grey-faced, so Rey doesn’t push the issue. She knows what he means, even if Poe had shown absolutely no signs of violence when he’d frozen up in the car. She doesn’t actually think Poe would hurt her – her sympathetic response system excluded – when he was having a flashback. Poe just doesn’t act violent, ever; logically she knows it was her own trauma that caused her to flinch, to doubt him.

But still, this sounds like a conversation that should be had with a professional, not with a girl who can barely keep her own shit together. _Who should probably be going back to therapy herself, after today._

“I’m sorry for running,” she says softly. “I thought it was for the best, and I needed to clear my head. I was wrong to leave you like that. And I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re safe. I’m just,” he laughs, and it’s watery as he passes a trembling hand over his face. “I’m so fucking glad, and so fucking selfish to be glad, that you don’t hate me.”

“I could never hate you, Poe Dameron.” Rey smiles at him weakly, still feeling guilty that her flight had caused him such anxiety.

“So, uh. What do you want to do now, Rey?” He asks. She’s unsure if he means in their budding relationship, or for dinner, or in general.

“I want you to hold me,” her answer is honest and simple and easy. Poe grins at her and holds his arms out. Rey steps into the embrace, her cold nose pressing against his warm throat, and she tries very hard not to analyze why it feels so much like home.

They eat leftovers from the fridge after she changes into dry clothes, and they talk a little longer curled up on her bed.

Her leg is slotted between Poe's, and he's spending a lot of time kissing her fingers, intermittently trying to rub warmth back into her hands. His stubble is a few days old and scratchy, and Rey giggles as it drags across the pads of her fingers. Even through her exhaustion, she wonders what the stubble would feel like against other parts of her body.

Poe asks her, very softly, "Am I allowed to kiss you, now?" His brown eyes are warm, hopeful, and happy. 

Rey smiles at him, all teeth and flushed cheeks. She brings a finger up to stroke the laugh lines near his eyes, and traces a path down to his top lip. He presses his lips against it, sweetly. It becomes slightly less sweet when he lets his tongue slip out and lick her fingertip, and when she doesn't pull away immediately, he nips at her finger as well, sending a jolt of heat into her core. Rey can't help but ask, "Please kiss me, Poe."

His mouth is soft on hers, and the stubble she'd wondered at a minute earlier feels like heaven as he kisses her over and over again.  He rolls on top of her, deepening the kiss, and Rey makes a high-pitched noise in the back of her throat when he does what she's always trying to get him to do, when he lowers the entirety of his body onto hers. She arches victoriously against him, grinding her hips into his, and it's his turn to sigh, a large hand tangling in her hair while he moves his hips to match her pace. 

They move unhurried, almost lazily, hands staying above clothing, in perfectly proper places. It's nothing like last week, when Rey was convinced she was going to catch on fire from Poe's fingers inside her. This is a heat of an entirely different kind, and she likes it just as much. Poe kisses her sweetly, not like she's fragile, but like she's something he wants to protect, to treasure, to enjoy. Rey tries to kiss him back with just as much care, and when he breaks away, panting, after who knows how many minutes, she presses her lips into the column of his throat and enjoys the soft moan it inspires. 

Cuddling is the next activity, and Rey really likes that as well. She wants Poe inside her, completely, in every way that counts - and she hopes all that will come soon - but she also likes being near him like this, with his arms around her, his face tucked into the back of her neck while they talk freely. 

They talk about what to do if he has another anxiety attack, and they talk about the things that could make Rey anxious in the future - and in an attempt to lighten things between them, she even gives him a small, precious story about the time Ben Kenobi let her plant an entire row of vegetables in his garden. She laughs when she talks about how she planted dozens of flowers by accident, which had led to her caretaker shrugging and pretending to make a salad out of chrysanthemums despite her shrieked, silly, five-year-old protests.

Rey falls asleep in his arms, her back cozied up to his front. Bee sleeps at their feet, and Rey feels warm, and happy, and safe again. She hopes Poe does, too.

**

***’

There’s a strangely small soldier to his left with their back to him. They're somehow curled up on the seat, fast asleep despite the noise on board the Osprey. Poe doesn’t recognize them from their profile, and their collar is pulled up around their ears. He stares at them in confusion before shrugging it off. Maybe a member of a different unit jumped in on the evac.

 _But that doesn’t make sense,_ a strange voice tells him. It sounds like his voice. Older. Tired. _We were the only ones on this mission._

Poe shakes his head to clear it and turns his focus on Blario, who’s sitting across from him and trying to convince Tallie to go on a date with him stateside, which is where they’re headed. Just one more short flight, and then they’ll be at an actual airfield so they can leave all this behind them.

Tallie looks more and more amused at Blario’s attempts, and Poe has half a mind to put the guy out of his misery. Before he can step in, Riva leans forward, and grins at Blario from Tallie’s other side. “Hey, hey – Lieutenant Blario,” the small second lieutenant waves at him to get his attention.

“Uh, yes?” Blario smiles at the younger woman politely.

“She’s gay. Hella gay.” Riva winks at him.  “And spoken for.”

“Fuck,” Blario laughs, flushing in the strange light of the transport. “Fuck, I’m sorry. Please tell me I’m not a total asshole.”

“Can’t do that, Lieutenant,” Riva says cheekily. “But I can’t knock your taste.” Tallie elbows her laughing, and Riva manages to slip her arm around the elbow and slide her hand down Tallie’s arm, tangling their fingers together.

Poe’s happy for them, really. Riva and Tallie had danced around each other for the better part of nine months, and they’re ridiculously cute together.

He shoots a glance up towards the cockpit, where Muran sits with the rest of the Osprey’s crew. They’d needed someone with appropriate experience to help pilot, and he’d rock-paper-scissored Poe for the honor this morning.

Poe had stuck his tongue out when he’d won. “Maybe I’ll take a nap,” he’d teased the taller man. Muran had pulled him forward, hard, by his belt loops.

“You’ll miss me back there,” the captain had smiled at him sweetly before ducking down for a kiss.

 _You really will,_ the tired voice is back again. Poe blinks hard against it. _Goddamnit, wake up._

“Hey, Poe,” it’s Starck now, looking at him blankly from his right. Why isn’t Starck using his rank? “Don’t give me that. Rank means shit when you’re dead, _Poe_. What I want to know is: where is Tekka?”

_Tekka’s been pulled from the region, only you know where he went, what he knows._

_You’re a danger to every person on this transport. Wake the fuck up._

“Uh,” Poe swallows hard. Every member of his unit is suddenly staring at him, not speaking, expressions neutral, eyes accusing. The hum of the Osprey fades away, and when he turns to the front of the plane again, he sees Muran staring at him as well. Muran, who he’d so wanted to ask on a real, proper date, not just settle for the awkward fumblings they’ve managed the last few weeks in the desert.

Poe blinks again, and Muran’s slumped against the back of a pilot’s chair, eyes staring forward, unseeing, neck at an unnatural angle.

_Wake up._

Poe can’t wake up. There’s the unmistakable sound of air being torn apart by an oncoming missile, and the Osprey rocks viciously. He watches Tallie fall out of her seat and slam her head on the metal part of the rigging. Poe unbuckles and throws himself forward to help her because he always does, he tries every time, every fucking time, because he never learns, but the next strike slams him back against his seat. Riva’s screaming, Blario is sobbing in a language he doesn’t know, and there’s a rapid, aggressive swath of darkness that rears up and swallows Poe whole.

One thing’s new, though. He reaches for the thin, sleeping soldier next to him before the lights go out. He still doesn’t know who they are. He just knows he has to reach them, protect them somehow, and maybe everything will be okay.

Poe’s eyes wrench open, and he’s in the chair. His leg throbs in a way that tells him it’s broken. He counts it as lucky that he can feel his legs at all.

Tallie sits in front of him, blood trickling from her head wound. “Where’s Tekka?” She asks conversationally. “Just tell them, so I can go home and marry Riva like I told you I wanted to.” Poe opens his mouth to answer, to betray his mission and let them know where Tekka is, because fucking anything is better than what’s about to happen. All that comes out is blood. Tallie’s dead a second later.

Next is Riva, who stares at her girlfriend’s body dispassionately before turning to look at him, half her face covered in burns. “It’s not that bad of a scar,” she says calmly, raising a hand to the tortured flesh. “You should see the one on your side.” Poe screams when she digs her fingers into the gaping wound left by shrapnel near his rib cage. She steps back and tilts her head at him. “You’ll never look the same. But Poe, where’s Tekka? Tell them so I can see my mom again. You know she’s sick. You know I’m all she has.” Before he can even try, she’s dead, lying next to Tallie in the dirt. Poe’s throat hurts from screaming, but they aren’t done with him yet.

Starck, then Blario. Both men stand in front of him, directly in front of their dead friends. “Where’s Tekka, Major Dameron?” they ask him, faces empty of any expression.

“I don’t know,” Poe whispers, lies because he knows the truth wouldn’t save them, not really. He stares at the ground, tears leaking from his eyes as his side and leg erupt in twin agony. Some unseen force drags his chin up. He watches Blario and Starck die, too.

Poe sobs, looking at the dead bodies of his unit, a bullet hole in each forehead. Muran watches him from the opposite end of the tent, sitting against the side, neck still bent horribly from the crash, but eyes clearly looking at Poe. Looking at Poe and seeing him for the sorry excuse for a human being he is.

Next comes the torture, Poe remembers. Next they carve into him, electrocute him, do every foul thing possible to him, but it’s all better than watching his friends suffer. The worst part is over.

A man wearing all black, complete with a mask that covers his entire face, walks into the tent, dragging a helmeted figure behind him by the foot.

This is new.

Poe recognizes the figure from the plane, the person who had looked too small, too delicate for a war zone. He remembers wanting to protect them when the Osprey went down.

_Wake up._

The masked man throws the body in front of him, maybe three feet from Poe’s bound legs.

“What the fuck is this?” He asks weakly, unable to speak louder than a whisper from how hard he was screaming before.

The unknown man says nothing, just bends down to yank the other soldier into a kneeling position, knocking off their helmet in the process.

Poe almost tips the goddamn chair over when he sees Rey Niima’s scared, pale face.

“Sunshine? Fuck – no,  _no -_ baby, get up, please just fucking – you gotta get out of here,” Poe’s desperate, thrashing against his restraints so he can get to her. “Don’t touch her, please, I’ll tell you anything, anything you want,” he begs the man who dragged her in. He can’t see the man’s eyes through the mask, but Poe assumes he’s watching him suffer, maybe even smiling from it.

“Poe?” Rey asks, and he snaps his attention back to her, and he notices the blood at the corner of her mouth. “Poe, why am I here?” She’s so, so scared, and he’s never wished for death more.

“I’m asleep,” Poe mutters, trying to jolt out of this, trying to wake up. “I’m asleep, I’m asleep, I’m asleep.” He squeezes his eyes shut, but he can’t shut out the sound of Rey whispering his name, begging him for an explanation.

And then there’s the unmistakable sound of a barrel sliding, a hammer cocking. His eyes fly open to meet Rey’s, and his heart stops, possibly forever, at the fear and the pain and the horror he sees there.

“Why didn’t you just tell them?” She asks, lip quivering. The masked man points the gun at her head, and Rey begs, “Help me, Poe.”

“I’ll give you one more chance, pilot. Where’s Tekka?” The cold voice of Kylo Ren asks. He doesn’t even give Poe time to answer.

Rey’s dead, his name the last word on her lips, and Poe screams himself awake.

It’s 2018, and he wakes up screaming so loudly, he startles the real Rey Niima out of bed, her small form crashing to the ground.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (No Kylo wasn't actually there, but Poe's subconscious went right ahead and rolled him up into the 'reliving your traumatic experience' thing) 
> 
> (Yes, Tekka is Lor San Tekka, who has a connection to Luke Skywalker which we'll see later).
> 
>  
> 
> [the title of this chapter is from Talking Heads' "Dream Operator" which I personally think is a strangely haunting song?]


	10. This Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Poe's dream; Rey and Poe spend a peaceful day together; Finn/Rose/Rey/Poe hang out; Poe demonstrates some of his *ahem* skillset for Rey; Poe asks Rey on a special date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags: angst, fluff, and smut all go together, don't they?; the return of dom!Poe (polite Dom!Poe); oral sex; dirty talk
> 
> Rating: M or even T for most of the chapter, but definitely E for the scene between Rey/Poe (that takes place after they hang out with Finn and Rose, if you want to skip it. No more E when Rey's working at the coffee shop, scene changed marked by ***)
> 
> Warnings: Poe and Rey discuss his nightmare; struggles with mental illness; references to past violence; Poe accidentally caused Rey to be injured and he blames himself. 
> 
> Warning 2: Poe performs oral sex on Rey with enthusiastic consent from all parties, and he's just as bossy as ever (but again, respectfully bossy with frequent checks for consent)
> 
> Potential squeamish warnings: discussions of needing to pee after sex; Poe comes in his pants (b/c of course he does)

Rey’s drifting peacefully, barely aware that she’s waking up when she hears him.

Poe shouts her name and then his entire body convulses. He screams like someone’s murdering him, he screams like he’s in agony, and he screams so loudly Rey startles completely awake.

She falls forwards onto the floor, and she twists, trying to catch herself, but she only succeeds in cracking her wrist painfully, and then slamming her opposite elbow onto the ground. Her attempt to catch herself isn’t enough; one foot stays on the bed, tangled in a sheet, which causes her knee to pop, and her back slams into a pile of textbooks she’d left near the bed. She narrowly avoids hitting her head on the ground, so she counts herself lucky.

Assessing her situation and deciding she’s fine, Rey finally locks eyes with Poe. A patch of light from the streetlamp shines through the window, illuminating him. He’s sitting upright and he looks wild, sweat dripping from his hair, dampening his shirt. One of his hands is clutching at the necklace she’s noticed before, and Bee has jumped on the bed, his paws on Poe’s heaving chest while the dog snuffles his jaw, licking tentatively.

“Poe?” Rey asks. Her whole body hurts. He’s hyperventilating. Rey tries to disentangle her foot from the sheets. “Poe, darling, are you okay?”  
There’s a loud knock, and it startles her. Poe doesn’t even blink, just keeps staring at her.

“Everything good in there?” Finn shouts through the door.

“Everything’s fine,” Rey says in a voice that does nothing to betray the fear coiling in her stomach. “Poe woke up with a spider on his face.”

“That’s tough shit, dude,” Finn calls back. “Make her kill it, she’s always trying to save them and take them outside. Fuckin’ army of spiders that she’s just setting free into the world so they can come back in and hunt us down, I swear to God.”

“Oh hush, Finn,” Rey laughs, and it’s only slightly higher-pitched normal. “Go back to bed.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he snorts and bangs once more on the door. “Thank fucking God that wasn’t some weird sex thing. I was legitimately worried about Poe’s safety, Niima.”

“Fuck you too, asshole,” Rey stands and walks over to the bed, and Poe’s still staring at her.

Finn’s footsteps retreat with the sound of his carefree laughter, and then there’s his bedroom door opening, Rose’s voice asking after everyone’s status, and the door closing once more.  
Rey looks at Poe, fear rippling through her while she hovers at the bedside.

“What happened?” She whispers. “Poe?” He’s shaking horribly, and she can see the tears that have already left his eyes, leaving silvery streaks on his face in the moonlight.

“R-rey,” he chokes out. One hand lift from the covers, reaching for her, and Rey threads her fingers through his. His thumb immediately comes to stroke over the inside of her wrist. She realizes he’s searching for a pulse. “Rey,” he says again, anguished, eyes glued to where their hands are linked.

“Poe, you’re worrying me,” Rey tells him, trembling herself. Her back hurts, and she wants to know what’s going on in his head. “Did you have a bad dream?”

“Awful,” Poe whispers. “But it was just a dream. It was a dream.” He keeps repeating it, and Rey puts one knee on the bed, the one that isn’t throbbing. She reaches out to pull a hand through his dark curls, and Poe leans into the touch desperately. “Please,” Poe looks up at her imploringly.

“Can I –” Before she can fully respond, Rey’s pulled down onto the bed, almost forcefully, and Poe’s arms wrap around her. He’s still shaking while he buries his face in her hair, and then he slides down so his ear rests over her heart.

“It’s okay,” Rey tries her best to hold him, but she winces at the dull ache throughout her body.

She kisses the top of his head, and he shudders through a sob, his fingers clutching at her sides hard enough to bruise. “Ow,” she says drily. Poe loosens his grip, slightly, but doesn’t let her go.

“Poe, is there anything I can do to help?”

“Talk to me,” he mutters into her sternum. “Please, just talk to me.”

She starts with listing the names of the trees in the complex parking lot, and then moves on to the flowers she’s growing in the greenhouse. Rey talks to him about regulars at the coffeeshop, about how her thesis is going, about Finn’s most recent bet – which she won, thank you – and about how she heard a song on the radio the other day, and wished immediately that she could hear Poe play it.

He laughs at that, finally. “I don’t deserve you,” he says, and it sounds like a confession. And then, another. “I hurt everyone I care about.”

“Stop,” Rey holds him as tightly as she can, probably causing a few bruises of her own. “Don’t say that.” Poe shakes his head, and his fingers sporadically move along her hip and rib cage.

“Poe, what did you dream about?”

“War,” he says. Rey drags herself up to sit cross-legged and tries to maneuver his head onto her lap, which proves slightly difficult with how badly her back hurts. She’ll need ice for it, but she doesn’t want to leave Poe until she’s sure he’s okay. Once he’s resting, nose pressed into her knee, Rey begins to card her fingers through his hair. Poe closes his eyes against the feeling, and a hand comes to wrap around her calf.

“What about the war?” Rey asks tentatively. She’s unsure if talking about this is going to help him or not.

“The day I –” Poe shifts, and presses his face into her leg fully. When he speaks, it’s muffled.

“The day I was captured.”

“Oh,” Rey’s arms cage around his shoulders, as if she could protect him from his own past.

“Yeah,” Poe huffs. “Oh. I…I have that dream a lot, but I haven’t had it when I’m with you, until now.”

“I’m sorry,” Rey apologizes automatically, because of course this happened today. “It’s my fault, I gave you an anxiety attack.”

“No, Sunshine,” Poe rolls onto his back so he can look up at her. Rey brushes her lips against his forehead, and he curls his fingers around her elbows, trying to keep her in place. “No, it’s not your fault. It would have happened eventually.” She leans up and examines his face. It’s much paler than normal, sickly and bloodless under the tan of his skin. Sweat still shines on his brow; Poe looks older, exhausted. His eyes are shut when he says, “I watched my friends die. I watched them all die, and I have to watch it again almost every night in my fucking sleep.” Rey makes a sound somewhere between anger and grief, and Poe twists until he’s on his side, so she can’t see his face.

Rey peppers kisses onto his temple, his hair, and she pulls the hand she can reach up to her lips.

She bends down to leave her nose pressed against the side of his head, and breathes deeply, ignoring the pull on her sore muscles. “Poe,” she whispers. “Why did you scream my name before you woke up?”

He’s immediately tense under her. “I have that dream a lot, but this…this was new,” he says after a pause that feels eternities long. Rey feels warmth on her leg through the fabric of her pajamas. Poe’s crying again.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” she backtracks. “Poe, really, you don’t.”

He sits up and rests his hands on the bed on either side of her folded legs. “I dreamed you were there,” he admits, looking hollowed out. “Sweetheart, I dreamed that the man who tortured me had you somehow. He – he wanted information from me, but I wouldn’t give it to him. And when I didn’t, he—" Poe trails off, acute misery and shame on his handsome face. “You died, Rey.”

Rey puts her hands on either side of his jaw and kisses the crease of his brow. “I’m fine, Poe,” she says. “I’m fine. I’m here with you, and I’m okay. I’m safe, and so are you.” Poe nods weakly, and Rey leans back against her headboard, spreading her legs wide enough for him to fit. “Come here.” Poe scoots in, and rests his head against her heart. Bee curls up as close to Poe as he can get, and Rey continues to talk to Poe about nothing of importance until the sun peeks through the window. He drifts off half an hour after dawn, and Rey stays awake, wishing there was some way for her to physically vanquish the demons that haunt Poe Dameron, but she comes up with nothing.

It's a deep-seated agony that she doesn’t know how to help him. But how could she know, when she can barely help herself?  
**

It's after ten when Poe finally cracks his eyes open. Bee’s staring at him from the floor, and he’s curled up in Rey Niima’s bed, alone. He sits up, and bangs his head against her headboard rhythmically. Fuck. She’s never going to talk to him again. The only reason he’s still here is because she was too kind to kick a sad sack to the curb in the middle of the night.

He’s locked in a spiral of endless self-hatred when there’s a light knock at the door. “Uh, yeah?” Poe says, subconsciously adjusting his shirt to make sure his torso is completely covered.

The door cracks open, and Rey enters, hair wet and in a single braid over a small shoulder. She’s holding two bottles of Gatorade.

“Good morning,” she smiles at him hesitantly.

“Hi,” Poe manages. He struggles to keep his eyes on her, but there’s a reason he calls her Sunshine. Rey Niima burns brighter than any star in the galaxy, almost unbearably glorious in the morning light.

“I hope it’s okay – I walked Bee because you were out cold, and then I went to buy Gatorade in case you weren’t feeling well.” She crosses into the room and stands at the side of the bed.

It’s all he can do to stare at her dumbfounded.

“Here,” she hands him a Gatorade. “Blue favor, the best flavor.” Rey smiles at him so softly, it drags across every gaping wound inside of him. She drops the other bottle on the covers, sits down delicately at the end of the bed, and rubs her hands over his feet, which are still tucked under the blankets.

The gatorade is gone in less than a minute; Poe’s ridiculously dehydrated. Rey’s thoughtfulness in getting him something to drink hurts his stomach.

“I’m sorry about last night,” he says earnestly after he’s set the empty bottle on her nightstand.

“Don’t apologize.” Rey looks him in the eyes. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Okay,” Poe nods. “Okay.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Rey asks, clearly nervous. “I don’t want to make things worse.”

“I just need to hold you,” Poe says honestly. “So I can tell myself you’re okay. Also because I like holding you.”

Rey grins at him, and Poe pulls back the comforter so she can scoot in next to him. She turns her face up for a kiss, and Poe barely gets through, “Can I –” before she’s surging up to meet him. He kisses her harder than he thought he could after a dream like last night’s, his hands running through her hair, down her neck, and along her back, but this is just as reassuring, if not more so, than her heartbeat under his ear. Rey Niima is alive, and well, and --

She gasps in pain, a small, hurt noise, when his hand coasts to the lower part of her back.

“Rey?” Poe doesn’t move a single muscle. “Are you okay?’

“I’m fine,” she dismisses him. “I’m really fine. Kiss me some more.”

But Poe can’t be distracted now, now that he knows Rey isn’t feeling great. “Sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Talk to me. Are you in pain?” Rey’s set her mouth into a stubborn line, a face he’s beginning to know well, and she shifts, wincing slightly. “Let me see.” He tugs questioningly at the back of her shirt.

“I’d really rather you didn’t,” Rey protests, but Poe gives her his best Bee-wants-a-treat puppy eyes, and she relents. “I don’t want you to be upset,” Rey warns.

Poe’s heart thuds in his ears while she rolls over onto her stomach and sighs heavily. Rey twists an arm behind her to lift her shirt up a few inches, and Poe sees it.

A collection of angry, purple-red bruises are clustered to the right of her spine.

“Sweetheart,” his throat is too dry, and he furiously tries to swallow. “Did I do this to you?”

“No,” Rey almost shouts it, dropping the shirt and turning around. “Ow, fuck, damnit. No, Poe, you didn’t do this. I hit some books when I fell out of bed, that’s all.”

That doesn’t make any sense, and his brain spirals towards instability. “Rey, you wouldn’t have fallen if I hadn’t freaked out. I did this to you. Holy fuck.” He gasps for air.

It’s just like last year. He hurts everyone. Everyone. He’s a fucking danger to society, the doctors were right.

“Don’t think like that,” Rey begs him. “Poe, really, I’ll be fine, I already iced it. I do way worse to myself on my longboard every other week.”

“Did I hit you?” Poe whispers, her words barely registering. “Rey, did I—” His hand goes to hover over her throat.

“What?” Rey grabs his hand and holds it steady, which is when he notices how badly it had been shaking before. “No, of course you didn’t do anything like that. You didn’t even really move that much. I was just startled when you screamed – I fell, and then I hit the ground. So unless you want to be mad at me or the ground, there’s nothing to be upset about.”

“Rey, you’re hurt,” Poe blinks away tears, panic clawing at his chest. “You’re hurt because of me.” His eyes go to the cut on her cheek, the one she got yesterday while running from him and his stupid overreaction. How many times will he allow himself to hurt her before he does the right thing and leaves her the fuck alone?

“Poe, it’s not your fault I’m hurt. I’m fairly accident prone to begin with. But you could – maybe you could, I don’t know, help it feel better?” Rey asks, biting her lip.

“Yeah, yeah definitely. I’ll go get some ice,” Poe drags his uncooperating, exhausted legs underneath him. He stops moving when Rey drapes a hand over his thigh.

“No, I meant,” she laughs, nervously. “I’ve already taken Advil and everything. I meant, it definitely helped the pain when we were kissing. Maybe some more of that?” That sounds like a solid mission, and he dedicates himself to it thoroughly. Only part of his brain wishes she would yell at him, punish him, repay him for what he did to her.

Poe spends the next thirty minutes pressing kisses into every inch of skin he marked, and then any other inch of skin she’ll let him.

“ _Lo siento,_ ” he murmurs into her bruised wrist, which is another casualty of last night.

“I know what that means, Dameron,” Rey tugs on his hair slightly with her other hand – Poe’s been meaning to get it cut back into a high and tight, but he likes the way her fingers feel in his curls too much to deny himself the sensation. “Don’t be sorry.” She tugs again, and he follows her implied request, swooping down to kiss her properly.

His heartrate has slowed significantly, and the haze of last night’s terror is receding to a dull burn in the back of his throat. He nuzzles into Rey’s neck, and cracks an eye open to look at the time.

It’s after 1100, which makes him realize: “Rey, aren’t you like, really late for your shift?”

Rey twists and lines up with him so their noses are almost touching. “I have today off,” she says nonchalantly.

“Why?” Poe asks self-consciously. He sort of remembers Finn coming to check on them last night, which Rey had lied her way through with disturbing ease. _Why is she so used to covering for people who hurt her?_ “Don’t you always work on Friday?”

“Rose wanted me to have today off,” Rey shrugs, and rubs her nose against his. “She probably thinks we’re fucking like bunnies, and she’s way too excited about that. ‘ _Get it, girl,’_ were her exact words, actually. ‘ _Climb that man like a tree,_ ’ was what Finn followed with. God, my roommates are weirdly obsessed with how hot you are.”

Poe feels his blush bounce off Rey’s skin. “Your roommates think I’m hot?” He hasn’t thought of himself as attractive in over a year. He just assumed what had happened to him was so plainly written on his body, his face, that it cancelled anything positive about his appearance.

“Everyone thinks you’re hot, Major Dameron,” Rey teases him. Her hands come down to pull on his belt loops, and she tugs him closer. Poe’s too happy to oblige. Today he wants to be as close as possible to Rey and her wonderful, miraculous, _still-beating_ heart.

“Including you?” He asks, ghosting his lips over hers.

“Especially me,” Rey answers solemnly, catching him into a kiss that he never wants to end.

They don’t move from the bed until 1300, which he certainly can’t complain about.

**

It’s five o’clock when Finn and Rose come home from work while she’s cleaning up the kitchen. Poe’s in the bedroom, and her roommates smirk at her unbearably – maybe because all she’s wearing is a large sweatshirt –his sweatshirt – and boyshorts. “Shut the fuck up,” she mouths at them.

Finn shrugs good-naturedly and begins to set up his gaming system. He throws a controller to Rose, who rolls her eyes. “FIFA, FIFA, FIFA,” Finn starts to chant. Rey snorts, knowing that Rose is five seconds away from snapping that the last thing she wants to do after dealing with shitty customers all day is deal with shitty soccer players for an hour.

Poe walks out of her bedroom, looking exhausted still, but he manages a sweet smile at Rey before Finn shouts at him.

“Poe!”

“Oh, hi.” He smiles at Finn too.

“Hi, Poe! We brought pizza!” There are three large pies sitting on the counter, which Rey is almost sure is enough for the four of them. She still isn’t sure how much Poe eats – but she knows how much damage she and Rose can do.

“That’s awesome, thanks man.” Poe walks around behind the island, and wraps his arms around Rey’s middle. She relaxes into the embrace, and sighs softly when his lips find the sensitive skin under her ear.

Oh God, she can’t get turned on in front of her roommates. She’ll never hear the end of it. Luckily, Finn is deadset on getting her boyfriend’s - and oh fuck, where did _that_ come from? - time and attention.

“Rose, did you know that Poe likes soccer too?” Finn’s bouncing on his feet. Poe drops one last kiss into her jaw and lets her go. He walks towards the sitting area, and Rey very intensely avoids staring at his perfect ass.

“Oh thank the Lord, someone else can play FIFA with him now,” Rose moans, throwing the controller at Poe who catches it.

“Aw babe, you don’t like playing FIFA with me?” Finn asks, huge puppy dog eyes turned on her.

“I love doing things with you, sweetie.” Rose pulls Finn into a hug, and Rey can see her mouth at Poe “ _Fuck FIFA._ ”

In the end, there isn’t quite enough pizza, but they do find a gallon of ice cream that Rose and Rey split while watching the two men squabble over whether FIFA 17 or 19 is the better game.

They go to bed around eleven, and after the door closes behind him, Poe leans against it. He looks happier than he has all day, and she desperately hopes that no nightmares will come to him tonight.

“I had a nice day,” Rey tells him, standing at the side of her bed and fidgeting with her hands. “I know that’s weird because it didn’t start well. But I had a really nice day, just spending time with you.”

“I did too,” Poe says hoarsely. “But I gotta tell you. Walking around in that outfit just isn’t fair. In fact, I’d say it’s borderline cruel and unusual.”

Rey blushes, and runs her fingers along the hem of the sweatshirt. “So what do you suggest then?” Poe pushes off from the door and walks towards her slowly. She feels completely trapped by his gaze, but for once she doesn’t feel like running.

“What do I suggest for _what_ , Ms. Niima?” Poe’s inches away from her, so close she can feel the heat pouring off of him in waves. Or maybe it’s coming from her. It’s unclear.

“What do you suggest I do to make it up to you?” Rey asks, a thrill running down her spine when Poe looks at her like he wants nothing more than to consume her.

“Get on the bed,” he orders. Rey immediately complies. He leans in and says, “I’m going to kiss you now, and if you don’t want me to do anything, let me know.”

“I want you to,” Rey insists. Poe makes good on his promise, and she gasps into his mouth. “Poe, I want you to do everything.” She means it. There are condoms in her dresser, and she’s wanted this for weeks now.

“Let’s just start with this,” Poe stands up straight and tugs on the bottom of the sweatshirt she borrowed from him, and she lifts her arms. He pulls it over her head, and immediately his eyes widen. “I didn’t want to assume,” he breathes, staring at her bare body. “But Ms. Niima, how scandalous.”

Rey shrugs. “Your turn?” She asks hopefully. Poe shakes his head.

“Not tonight,” his sexy, playful voice is gone, and in its place is the raw, pleading voice from this morning. “Can I just – can we just focus on you tonight?” His eyes are begging for her to agree, and she knows it’s not the time to push or question.

“Yes,” she smiles at him. Feeling bold, she lifts up slightly and tugs her underwear down and kicks them off. “Yes, _sir_.”

“Oh, fuck,” Poe kneels at the edge of the bed and his hands hover over her hips. “Can I touch you?”

“Please do.” Rey bites her lip to hide a moan when Poe’s hands drift to her skin, slide down her thighs, and push her legs open. She squirms under the intensity of his gaze, and Poe licks his bottom lip.

“Rey,” Poe calls her name, but doesn’t break his gaze. “I need to know how you feel now. I know you said you were okay with it when we talked about it, but are you okay with it _now_?”

“Okay with what?” Rey’s breathless as she feels the heat of his breath roll over her. It’s a new sensation, and it’s making it hard to think.

Poe chuckles darkly and half-stands. He cups her jaw in his hands and kisses her so hard she really can’t think. “Rey, sweetheart,” he murmurs into the kiss. “I want you to cum on nothing more than my tongue, and then I want to make you cum again, and again with my fingers inside you, my tongue on your clit.” Rey makes a noise that she’s sure she’ll be embarrassed about tomorrow, and honestly she’ll still be embarrassed about it when she’s sixty years old. “I want you to feel good because you are so, so good. So good to me, so good always. Let me make you feel good, sweetheart.”

“Okay,” Rey nods, fervently. “That sounds…good.” Poe laughs again, and kisses her with an unbearable sweetness on her nose.

“Just tell me to stop if you get uncomfortable, and I will,” he swears. He smiles once more at her, gently, and then he kisses her. Halfway through the kiss, something shifts, and it becomes desperate, hungry. Rey’s hands come up to grab his shoulders, and Poe drags his mouth down to her throat, working a path along all the most sensitive parts of her neck. He places a large hand between her breasts and pushes lightly, and Rey takes the hint, falling back so she’s lying on the bed, her feet still on the floor. Standing between her legs, leaning over her body, Poe kisses – well he kisses _everywhere,_ and Rey is afloat in with sensation. She claps a hand over her mouth, ashamed of how loud she’s being, and Poe laughs into the skin near her navel.

“One day, we’re going to do this somewhere where I can hear you scream,” he promises. “Because you _will_ scream.” He runs his tongue lightly around her belly button, and Rey squirms, trying to get some sort of friction where she needs it most, but Poe’s standing between her thighs still, and she’s woefully unsatisfied for the time being. Poe kneels again, and Rey sits up on her elbows so she can look at him.

“That’s good,” he praises her, rubbing light circles into her knees. He puts a hand behind either calf, and pulls her towards him, so her hips are at right at the edge of the mattress. Rey yelps when his teeth come to graze the inside of her thigh. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart.” There are agonizing moments where Poe familiarizes himself with all the ridiculous sounds she’s making as he kisses all around where she needs him most, but not _actually_ where she needs him. Rey’s going to smack him, she’s pretty sure.

“I’m going to kiss you here, now,” Poe stares at her, his chin resting lightly where her leg creases into her hip while his finger swirls lightly over where the heat is most unbearable. “Is that okay?”

“Goddamnit, Poe, please, please put your fucking mouth on me,” Rey begs. “Please, please, please.”

He grins devilishly. “Roger that, Ms. Niima.” Rey bucks off the bed when he complies.

Poe had promised her three orgasms, but he gives her four in less than an hour. He’s thoughtful, that way. When she goes to return the favor, to get him off at the end of it all, he laughs embarrassedly and gestures at his pants.

“I uh, might have already…” He wipes at his face, blushing.

“Oh,” Rey says. She’s too boneless from her residual pleasure to say anything more than, “Oh.”

“So eloquent,” he scoops her up behind the knees and deposits her more fully on the bed. “I’m going to go clean up, and then I’m going to come back.” He pulls a blanket around her, and Rey grabs on to it happily.

“And cuddle the shit out of me?” Rey asks hopefully.

She can hear Poe laughing while he opens the door. “And cuddle the shit out of you. Oh, fuck, wait.” He jogs back to the bed, and Rey smiles at him, completely loopy. He has such a nice face, and it’s so close to her. She pouts, wishing it were closer.

“Come here, sweetheart.” Poe picks her up all the way, the blanket included, and walks towards the open door.

“Where we going?” Rey asks sleepily.

“You need to go to the bathroom, Sunshine.” When she looks at him, his face is burning. “Uh, you need to …”

“Oh fuck, I need to pee,” Rey nods in understanding. “Yeah, or I’ll get an infection. I read about that.”

“I bet you did,” Poe snorts and gently toes the bathroom door all the way open. He sets her down carefully, and Rey hands him the blanket.

“Don’t you need to clean up?” Rey asks.

“You first, sweetheart, I can wait.” Poe smiles at her and closes the door between them.

Rey almost falls asleep on the toilet, but she manages to get up and wash her hands and brush her teeth.

She opens the door and sees Poe leaning against the opposite wall. “Hi,” she says, suddenly shy. Poe’s the first person who’s taken care of her in fourteen years, and she doesn’t know what to do with that.

“Hey,” he smiles, pulling the blanket back around her shoulders.

“Finn leaves clean sweatpants in there,” Rey whispers, for lack of anything proper to say, anything that encapsulates how hard she’s falling for Poe. “For when he needs to change quickly. You’re welcome to borrow a pair, you’re almost the same size.”

“Oh thank fuck,” Poe quietly laughs, passing her as she walks out. He comes back three minutes later wearing a pair of sweatpants, and Rey’s already taken it upon herself to collapse on the floor, her legs basically useless after Poe’s thorough exploration of her body.

“Let’s get you to bed, sweetheart.” Poe offers her a hand and helps her stand up.

“Can you carry me?” Rey asks, face burning from how needy it sounds.

“It would be my genuine pleasure,” he says grandly. She’s up in his arms again before she can blink, and she drifts off within seconds, not even waiting for him to get them into bed.

It’s definitely not the worst way to end a day.

***

Halfway through her shift on Wednesday, right after she’s dealt with an annoying business man in a shitty suit, Poe walks in with a hand behind his back. He’s wearing the leather jacket that Rey secretly (not so secretly) loves, and he’s lugging his guitar case.

“What can I get you, handsome?” Rey asks when he walks up to the bar.

“Handsome? Why didn’t I get some of _that_ service?” The businessman from the last transaction is standing at the pick-up station, openly leering at her.

Poe stares at him for ten seconds with a terrifying lack of expression on his face before the guy turns beet red and walks away without his coffee.

“What an asshole,” Poe remarks, watching the other man retreat.

 “Hazard of the trade,” Rey shrugs. “After a while, you get used to men aggressively confusing polite customer service smiles with actual interest.” Poe turns to stare at her, now, and Rey realizes her mistake. “Oh! Oh shit, no, I wasn’t talking about you, Poe, I swear – oh fuck, no, I always wanted to smile at you, I liked smiling at you, I mean the serenading was a little much at first, but eventually I liked that too, oh fuck –” Poe’s smiling, completely amused, so she cuts herself off.

“I mean. Hi.” Rey swallows, gripping the counter. “Can I get you a drink? On the house? For my stupid, fat mouth?”

“I like your mouth,” Poe comments. Rey arches an eyebrow at him, and it’s his turn to squirm. “Uh. I don’t actually need any coffee. I’m here to – just, here.” He pulls a bouquet of yellow tulips from behind his back and hands them over the counter.

Rey feels the tips of her ears burning. “They’re beautiful,” she takes them and weighs them in her hands. The petals feel like cool silk under her thumb.

“Not as beautiful as you,” Poe doesn’t miss a beat, and he’s grinning widely when he props himself up on his elbows and rests his chin in his hand. “What’s the scientific name, Sunshine?”

“ _Tulipa kaufmanniana_ ,” Rey recites, still admiring the pretty blooms. She’s pretty sure Poe’s admiring her, from his positioning, so she hides her face slightly behind the bouquet.

“I may have an ulterior motive for giving you flowers,” Poe blurts out. Rey fixes her attention on him again.

“Hmm?” Rey tries to keep her eyes on him as she digs around under the register for a glass for the flowers. She comes up with a large enough container and sets it in front of her.

Poe shuffles his feet and shoves his free hand in his pocket. “It’s my birthday on Saturday, and I wanted to see if you were free, so we could do something.”

“Oh,” Rey says, running her thumb along the bottom of the flower stems. “Oh! Yes,” she laughs, and Poe’s face lights up. “Yes, I’d love to.”

“Excellent,” he beams. “The flowers worked!”

“I would have said yes without the flowers, Dameron.” Rey scolds him, turning to fill the glass with water. When she looks over her shoulder at him, he’s smiling sheepishly, elbows still resting on the counter while he looks at her.

“Maybe I wanted to give you flowers,” he admits, shrugging. “You agreeing to a birthday date was the cherry on top of a successful venture.”

“Why _did_ you want to give me flowers?’ Rey asks, slightly confused. She walks towards him again and tries to count rapidly in her head. They’ve been dating for just about six weeks, she doesn’t think she missed an anniversary. Her chest tightens briefly, panicked, before he answers.

“Because they made me think of you, and how wonderful you are.” Poe’s face has never been redder. “I don’t know. Do I need a reason? I want you to be surrounded by pretty things.”

Rey has no smart-ass comments for that, so she looks around to make sure no one’s looking at the front, and tugs him forward by the front of his jacket. “Can I kiss you?” She asks him. Poe nods, and he keeps nodding until their lips meet over the counter.

He has to leave for physical therapy after that, but Rey spends the rest of her shift smiling so hard her cheeks hurt, and the smile only widens every time she spots the yellow flowers out of the corner of her eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear we're getting some pretty solid SW plot connections in the next few chapters. ~the plot will return while our babies try to recover from their respective trauma ~
> 
> We also get some of Rey's backstory in the next chapter and it is... oh dear.


	11. Happy Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe and Rey celebrate his birthday, Rey gives Poe several presents, and Kes makes a surprise visit; Rey opens up about her childhood and has a startling revelation about her past
> 
> (this started as a 3000 word plot-bridging chapter and now it's 7000 words, oops)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags: birthday!sex; sexually curious Rey; oral sex/blow jobs; bilingual!Poe (spanish translations in end notes; disclaimer: I haven't studied Spanish/spoken it regularly in about six years so there's probably some mistakes)  
> Rating: E  
> Warning 1: Smut before Kes arrives (if you wanna skip it, it's after the third and final present Rey gives Poe). Rey performs oral sex on Poe without a condom, enthusiastic consent as always. 
> 
> Warning 2: Rey discusses her childhood trauma with Poe, and he's sort of pushy/rude in getting information out of her (b/c he isn't perfect). Canon character death is discussed (Obi Wan), but in this story he dies of a heart problem. Implied child abuse (not by Ben) as well in Rey's story.

It’s 1500 on Saturday when there’s a light knock on the door. Poe trips over himself in his haste to answer it.

Rey’s standing on the other side, a square package under her arm. She’s done something with her hair; it cascades in curls around her slender neck, but it’s pinned back away from her face. Poe’s so busy staring at her face that he doesn’t notice at first that she’s wearing a dress under her thin coat, a rarity for her.

“You look – hi.” Poe rubs the back of his neck self-consciously. _God, what is wrong with me._

“I look high?” Rey asks, smirking.

“No, you look amazing,” he corrects himself. Rey smiles at him, and he steps back so she can walk in.

“Happy birthday, Major Dameron,” she says in a sing-song voice.

“Can I take your coat?” He asks. He may want to fully stare at her in that outfit – he finally understands the meaning of ‘little black dress’ – but he also wants her to be comfortable. She shrugs out of the jacket and hands it to him, and he hangs it up, biting his lip and searching desperately for something to say that isn’t horrifically caveman-esque, like, _let’s just skip dinner so I can eat you instead._ She deserves better than a line like that, even if it’s one hundred percent what he wants to do.

“Here you go,” Rey hands him the package. “I wrapped it myself, which is why it looks like a raccoon attacked it.” It is definitely one of the more … interesting ... wrapping jobs he’s seen.

“That’s a lot of tape,” he comments, smiling at her warmly. Rey blushes and looks down at her feet. “It’s wonderful, really, sweetheart. You didn’t have to get me anything.”

She shrugs. “I wanted to,” she says it like she’s admitting something private, still talking towards the ground, avoiding his eyes. “I haven’t had a lot of people to buy presents for. So I wanted to.” _Oh._

Poe sets the package down carefully on his front table and pulls her towards him, his hands soft on her waist. “I want to kiss you,” he tells her. She smiles at him, eyes bright when she nods, and they spend several minutes standing in his foyer, wrapped in each other. 

Eventually they break apart, and she nudges the package. “Open it!” She bounces on her feet. “Please?”

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” he snorts. “Here, let’s sit down.” He tugs her by the hand to sit on the couch, and she keeps bouncing happily, like _she’s_ the one getting the present. God, he doesn’t deserve her.

He opens it carefully, and it reveals a shoebox. When he slits the tape holding it shut and pries the box open, there are several items inside.

One is a CD. He picks it up and grins at her. “You made me a _mixtape?_ ” He knows he’s way too happy about this, but fuck if this isn’t the purest gift he’s gotten in years.

“My first one! I went to the library for like five hours,” Rey laughs. “Probably downloaded way too much software onto a public computer. But look!”

He flips it over to read the track listing. He recognizes the list of songs immediately.

“They’re what you sang at Open Mic Night,” Rey says softly. “Before we got together.” She taps on the second to last listing. “I couldn’t find the one you sang when you told everyone it was your last night, but this is a song that makes me think of you and how I felt then. That was the day I realized how much I liked you.”

“I wrote that song,” he comments idly. “I wrote it the day I met you.” He doesn’t want to talk about the sentiment behind the song, which is obviously about loving someone perfect despite knowing you’re no good for them. Like he’s no good for Rey. He’d known the second he laid eyes on her that she’d change his life for the better; and he remembers praying that he wouldn’t change hers for the worse.

“Oh.” Her voice is soft, pleased. He looks up at her, still holding the CD case. Rey smiles at him shyly. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yeah, Sunshine.” After getting his consent, she ducks in quickly and kisses him, her small hands cupping his jaw.

“Okay! Keep going!” Rey orders him enthusiastically, and Poe’s all too happy to comply. He pulls out another poorly-wrapped package and rips it open.

“Be careful! That took me like, five minutes!” Rey scolds him.

Poe snorts and shakes his head at her. The paper is quickly removed, and he sees the second present. It’s a bag of coffee grounds.

“It’s coffee,” Rey informs him solemnly. “ _Strong_ coffee. I hear that’s what you like to drink.” As if the first stumbled words he’d managed to eke out in her presence don’t haunt him enough already.

He weighs the package in his hand, and then points a finger at her accusingly. “That was _not_ my fault! You were standing there all – all _pretty_ and _smiling._ What was I supposed to do?” Rey cracks up, and swats at his finger playfully. “No! Not my fault! Be glad I was able to even form words while meeting the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” That’s the absolute truth, but she’s still laughing, probably unaware of how accurate the description is. He smiles at her harder than before and reaches for the final present.

“This one is --” Rey cuts herself off quickly. “Um. You don’t need to do anything with it if you don’t want to.” He eyes her briefly, but she’s staring to the side, attention fixed on the wall, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth. His eyes wander over her delicate collarbone, exposed by the neckline of her dress, before he directs his attention back to the gift in his hands.

It’s flat and rectangular, and he pulls away the paper with ease. And then he just stares. It’s a framed picture of him and Rey. They’re outside The Resistance, and she’s tucked under his arm, her hand braced on his stomach while she laughs. He’s staring down at her, open admiration and obvious adoration written on his face. He has one hand over hers, holding it against him, and Bee’s head peeks over the bottom of the photo.

Poe’s smiling in the picture, a real smile that looks like the Poe from before. The light of the picture itself seems golden, and they both look deliriously happy.

“Rose took it a few weeks ago,” Rey comments while Poe stares at it. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want it, but she printed it out for me. I have a copy too.” Poe sets the frame down carefully on his coffee table.

“Rey,” he licks his lip nervously. “I love it.” He knows his voice is hoarse, consumed by an emotion he’s too afraid to show her yet, too afraid to name. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Rey smiles at him sweetly and fidgets with her hands in her lap.

“Sweetheart, I’m really going to kiss you now, if that’s okay.”

“It’s more than okay.” Poe launches himself at her, restraining himself slightly so he won’t hurt her in his enthusiasm, and they tip backwards onto the couch. Poe wishes a thousand and one things – he wishes that he weren't so afraid to tell her the truth, he wishes he weren’t afraid to give every part of himself to her, he wishes that she’d met him when he was whole and better and useful – but he still knows that there’s nothing in the universe he could ever wish for that’s more perfect than Rey Niima.

They make out like teenagers on his couch, and he’s only slight embarrassed at how he paws at her over her clothes. They separate, panting, after a number of minutes, and he tucks himself to the side so he can give her a break and not crush her under him.

Rey smiles up at him, and suddenly her cheeks turn very pink. She looks away, and that just won’t do. Poe drapes an arm over her middle and nestles in closer.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks her lazily, nosing along her hairline.

“I’m thinking about last week,” Rey whispers.

“What about last week?” Poe kisses her under her ear, one of her most sensitive spots as far as he can tell. She shivers slightly from the attention.

“I was thinking about how you …” Rey wriggles under his arm and flushes. She pushes at his forearm, and he lets her up. They adjust so they’re sitting next to each other, their feet on the ground.

“How I?” Poe prompts, teasingly, leaning forward and trying to catch her eye. He thinks he knows what she’s talking about, and he’s more than hoping she’s about to ask him for a repeat performance. Four in a row is pretty good, but he thinks he can get her up to six.

“How you ate me out,” Rey finishes. Poe’s heard far, far dirtier things, especially overseas, but something about the phrase in her sweet mouth makes him harder than it should.

“Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that a lot, too,” Poe admits. He wants to know if she’ll let him do it again. His hand comes to hold her delicate jaw, and he pulls her in for a kiss that was supposed to be sweet, but they’re both slightly worked up, so it turns into something bruising. “What do you want, Sunshine?” He asks her when they separate for air.

Suddenly, Rey’s on her knees at his feet, looking up at him through lowered eyelashes – and who the fuck taught her how to look like that, she has to know how he’s putty in her hands, he’ll do anything she asks him if she keeps looking at him like that – and bites her lip, already reddened from kissing him. She puts her hands on his knees. “I want,” and she clears her throat, blinks, and then looks at him full-on, cheeks starting to grow pink. “I want to suck your cock, but I don’t know how.”

“Jesus.” His brain shorts out for a second, and he waits for it to reboot so he can say something else.

“Will you show me?” Yes, yes he will, and then he’ll die a thousand deaths from happiness because where on earth did this perfect person come from, and why is she settling for him? Poe palms his cock over his pants, squeezing slightly to cut off the urge he has to tip over the edge from just the idea of her mouth on him.

Rey’s hands come up slowly, running along his thighs, and he knows he’s about to lose any semblance of control. But he’s seen the bruise on her knee, the result of her fall out of bed last week. “Get up for a second, sweetheart.” Rey stands, arms wrapped around her middle while she blushes prettily. Poe grabs a pillow from the couch and puts it down before tapping her on the shoulder, indicating that she should kneel again.

Rey does, and she smiles at him happily. Poe tucks a hand under her chin and strokes her jaw with his thumb.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He double checks with her, like always, wanting her to know it’s never too late to back out. “Because I’m happy just cuddling, honestly.”

“I really, really want to do this,” Rey whispers. “I want to make you feel good, like you made me feel good last week. And – and I know you don’t like to be naked, so I figured this was something I could do for you where you could stay dressed.” Poe blinks away tears at her thoughtfulness. He’s never even told her _why_ he’s afraid of being naked in front of her, and here she is accepting it, trying to work around it.

He nods once. “Okay.” His voice feels like sandpaper in his throat.

Rey’s hands are at his zipper. “Can I?” She clears her throat, and it’s obvious that she’s forcing herself to make eye contact. Every inch of his skin is on fire when she says, “Can I touch you now?”

He nods, and whimpers, “Yes, please, _please_.” Poe knows, objectively, that he’s what most people describe as a “tough son of a bitch” – his XO’s words – but Rey has him begging and pleading before she’s even touched him.

She unzips his pants slowly and reaches in to pull his cock out of his boxers. He’s embarrassingly hard already, and Rey looks at, clearly hefting its weight in her hand. Poe whimpers, again, and he throbs in her hand.

“Oh,” she says softly. “Is that—is that a good thing?”

“It’s a very good thing,” he grits out. She runs her hand along his length wonderingly. “Oh fuck.”

“You said it worked better if it wasn’t so dry.” Rey arches an eyebrow at him, and Poe remembers the first time they’d touched each other, weeks ago now. “So, how do I start?”

“Uh,” Poe swallows, and his hips shift involuntarily, trying to get more friction. “Just, um, you can do whatever you’re comfortable with sweetheart, really, even if you just want to use your hand, seriously, anything is good –”

Rey rolls her eyes and interrupts his ramble by circling her tongue around the head of his cock.

He makes a mortifying noise and jolts slightly. “ _Joder._ ” Rey giggles and repeats the action. “Yes, yes that, yes.”

“You’re so articulate when you’re trying to get in my pants,” Rey notes. “But when it's your turn to feel good, all of that just, what, goes away?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Poe sighs, and Rey sits forward, so she’s examining his erection from directly overhead.

“So, maybe you won’t be able to order me around today. Should I tell you what I want to do, and you tell me if that’s okay?” Rey looks back up at him, and he doesn’t know if it’s meant to be seduction or a request for his consent. He nods helplessly either way.

“Okay,” Rey leans down to lick him one more time, from base to tip, and he moans, shoving his hands into the couch cushions so he won’t bury them in her hair and do something truly embarrassing. “Okay, so I think I should tease you a little bit? Just get you ready very slowly, like you did to me last week. And then I should um—” She’s blushing, and it’s impossibly sweet and sexy at the same time, “I should see if I can get your whole cock in my mouth, which might be difficult because it’s a little big,” and bless her, it really isn’t, he knows it isn’t, it’s perfectly average and he doesn’t really care as he’s never gotten a complaint for how he used it, “And then I’m going to want you to –“ She cuts herself off with a squeak and kisses him an inch to the side of his erection, soft lips on sensitive skin.

“What?” He asks. “Please, tell me, what do you want me to do? Please.” Poe’s never really been one for begging in bed, but Rey constantly surprises him.

She keeps her nose against his pelvis, and he feels her warm breath wash over him, which makes his toes curl. “I’m going to want you to put your hands in my hair and show me how you want it. I want you to take over, and, and guide me?” 

Christ. Sweet, angelic, perfect Rey just asked him to – Before he can fully analyze what she just told him, her mouth is on him again.

The next five minutes are a complete blur, and after Rey tells him she’s ready for him to take over, it takes less than thirty seconds for him to go off, his hands tangled in her hair. He’s aware of himself sobbing her name the entire time, and his vision goes out for at least ten seconds. 

When he opens his eyes, she smiles happily at him with her mouth closed, her nose wrinkled adorably. He grabs at her, trying to nonverbally communicate that he wants her in his arms, as soon as humanly possible, but she holds a finger up and runs to his bathroom. He hears the faucet running, and Rey comes back out, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Sorry,” she laughs. “That was really fun, but uh.”

“Don’t apologize, Sunshine,” he tells her. “Especially not after that.” She settles into the couch next to him, and he pulls her into a hug, laughing into her neck. “You’re amazing,” he informs her. “So amazing.”

“So that was okay?”

“Okay?” Poe snorts, still high as a kite from his orgasm. “Fuck, Rey, that was incredible. Holy Christ.” He kisses her jaw and then her lips. “Any chance that I could return the favor?”

She’s just beginning to nod, his hands already tracing a path down to the hem of her dress, when there’s a series of loud, rhythmic knocks at the door.

They startle apart quickly, and Poe stands to go check the door. “Poe!” Rey hisses. “Your pants!” She giggles behind her hand and gets up to adjust her own clothing and hair. Poe rolls his eyes at himself and laughs awkwardly, zipping back up and fastening his belt. He walks backwards, still staring at Rey, and he whispers “To be continued,” before pivoting to face the entrance.

He pulls the door open, probably still in a fairly obvious state of disarray, and his jaw drops.

Kes Dameron’s on the other side of the door, beaming at him. “¡ _Mijo!_ ”

“¿ _Papá?”_ Poe’s still a little startled, and he gets pulled into a bear hug quickly.

“¡ _Feliz cumpleaños!”_ His dad roars after he’s let him go. “You look good, kid! Real good! In fact, you look like –” His grin becomes very teasing. “Oh I know _that_ look. I thought you turned 32 today, not 17!”

“Dad,” Poe hisses. Kes spots Rey over his shoulder, suddenly.

“You must be Rey!” He says gleefully, pushing past Poe into the apartment. “I’ve heard so much about you! Just as pretty as he said!” Poe can see Rey extend her hand, a polite and nervous smile in place, before his dad bucks social convention as usual to sweep her into a rib-cracking hug.

Poe frowns, knowing that her back is still bruised. “Okay, Dad, let her go.” Kes releases her and stands back to clap his hands together.

“I thought I would come visit to make sure you weren’t alone on your birthday, but I can see my concern was misplaced, huh?” Kes bounces energetically, and Bee barks at him. “Oh, _mierda,_ sorry.” He stills and lowers his voice exponentially. “I can be a little stressful, I’m aware,” he tells Rey. Poe feels his face heat up. His dad’s been his only support in the last year besides Dr. Mothma and the other various medical officers assigned to his case. Kes has tried to adjust so much of his life to help Poe. It’s a selfish reason why he stayed in North Carolina; his dad’s only an hour and a half away in Greenville.

“We were about to go to dinner,” Rey tells him, holding herself a little straighter and smiling.

 _That’s not all we were about to do,_ Poe grumbles in his head.

“Would you care to join us?” She asks his dad sweetly.

Kes Dameron rubs his hands together excitedly. “Oh, there’s nothing I’d like more.”

***

They pull up into adjacent parking spots, having driven separately, and Kes bounces out of his door to open Rey’s before Poe can move. He’s pretty sure his dad likes her better than him already, something Poe can’t blame him for. Poe sighs and opens the back door for Bee. “Looks like you’re my date, Beebee,” he tells the Corgi, who just huffs a sigh at him and waddles up to the curb behind him.

Back at the apartment, he’d called ahead to the restaurant to adjust the reservation to three, and to confirm that Bee was, in fact, allowed. The manager he talked to recognized his name, and Poe had clenched his teeth at the sudden awe in her tone. “ _Major_ Poe Dameron?”

“That’s the one,” he laughed, bitterly, and peeked around the corner at Kes showing Rey something on his phone. Her head was thrown back, and she was laughing and pointing at the screen – _that can’t be good_ – but at least neither of them can hear this.

“We’d be more than happy to accommodate your animal, Major Dameron,” the manager assured him.

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” Poe dragged his foot along the baseboard. “And uh, do you mind – could you mention to the waiters to not mention my rank or my time in the military? I don’t – I like to keep a low profile.” He really only likes his former title when Rey says it. It sounds cleaner when it’s in her voice. Less damaged. Less haunted.

“I understand completely, Major Dameron.” The manager sounded sad. “My son fought in Afghanistan. Your company once provided his unit enough cover for an emergency evac. I can’t thank you enough.”

Poe leaned his head against the wall. “Is your son home, now, ma’am?”

“Yes sir, he’s been back for six months.”

“Good. And uh, thank you. For understanding.” He’d hung up the phone, and he just stood there for a minute before returning to the living room, fighting against sudden tears. She knew his name because of something _good_ he did, not because of the shit show that happened _after._ It had all gotten so tangled up, he’d forgotten that sometimes he really had helped people, that he’d saved lives before he’d ruined them.

Back in the present, they’re walking to up to the front door, and Poe wrenches himself away from his earlier conversation.

They’re seated with no difficulty. Rey sits across from him and his dad, and Poe takes the chair farthest from the door against a wall, and is pleased to note that he can see all the exits. The manager must have said something, and he forces down a wave of gratitude that threatens to leave him disastrously weepy.

There’s a bottle of free wine, which is offered under the pretense of a gift for his birthday, but Poe has a feeling it has more to do with what the manager told him. No one mentions his rank or makes a fuss though, and he settles more into his chair, Bee circling a few times before lying down under him.

They get through their first course easily enough, the conversation flowing in a way that used to be second nature to Poe. He grows more and more optimistic that meeting Rey really was the beginning of a new chapter in his life, the start of his actual healing. He admires her across the table. She shines like a celestial body, like the starlight that used to reflect off his Raptor. All the sounds of the restaurant fade away while he regards her animated features while she speaks to his father.

 Rey has apparently said something funny enough that has Kes laughing so hard he cries, and Poe jolts back into himself. “ _Shara la habría amado,_ ” Kes tells Poe, wiping tears of mirth away.

“ _Yo se,_ ” Poe smiles at his dad, and then at Rey. She smiles back tentatively, hands folded in her lap. Poe’s so glad his dad likes her; he just wishes they’d had more of a heads up before she met him. Families must be stressful to her. She’s barely opened up to him about her past, but it sounds like loving, complex relationships were thin on the ground. And Kes Dameron is overwhelming in his enthusiasm even on his best-behaved days.

“ _Deberías darle el anillo,”_ Kes adds solemnly, nodding at Poe’s chest where the ring hangs on a necklace.

Like Poe hasn’t thought of that. But still. “ _Solo hemos estado saliendo por unas semanas, papá_.” He mutters, taking a drink of his water and trying to smile reassuringly at Rey. He’s half-glad Kes chose to spoke in Spanish to ask about his mother’s ring, and half-irritated. He doesn’t want Rey to feel anxious.

“I should probably, um,” Rey breaks through, and she sounds a little freaked out. Kes turns to look at her fully, and Poe does too. “I understand? Spanish?” She’s bright red. “I uh, worked on cars in Arizona as a teenager, and I picked it up fairly quickly from co-workers and some of the sellers. _Si pudiera hacerlos reír, obtuve un mejor precio._ ” Poe’s gaping in his surprise; his mouth feels dry as a result of being open for the last ten seconds. “ _¿Y arregla una transmisión manual por cien dolares? Que ganga.”_ She pats the table in emphasis, folds her napkin and places it next to her plate.

Her accent is flawless, and Poe’s aware that he was staring at her, watching the perfect bow shape of her mouth form the vowels of his childhood, his native language.

“My speaking is mostly limited to things about cars, but I uh…I understand a lot of it. So.” She bites her lip and eyes the back corner of the restaurant. “I’m just going to go to the bathroom. _Con permiso._ ” Her smile is tentative and doesn’t reach her eyes. Rey walks swiftly away from the table, and Poe watches her leave.

“Fuck,” he groans, slamming his head down on the table. “Fuck me. And fuck you too, old man.”

“Ah, _mijo,”_ Kes doesn’t even sound slightly apologetic. “You’re in love. I saw the way you looked at her, like she was the only thing left in the galaxy. I know that look. And let me tell you. What a disaster.” At least they can agree on that. Poe grunts in acknowledgment. “So, _are_ you going to give her that ring?”

“ _Papá_ ,” Poe sits back up to look at the man who raised him. “I – I can’t overstate how sure I am about her. Rey’s everything to me – she’s become everything to me in such a short amount of time. I’d love to give her the ring, when the right time comes, and I feel like that should scare me but it doesn’t. But, fuck. She doesn’t really know me yet. There’s so much I haven’t told her, about last year, about the hospital, about how fucked up I am.” He clenches his jaw and shakes his head against the whole idea.

“You aren’t fucked up, Poe.” Kes grips his forearm, tightly. “ _Escuchame._ There isn’t a damn thing wrong with you. You went through hell, and look at you, still standing. You’re the strongest man I know. And I am so, so proud of you.”

“Thanks, papá,” Poe wipes his tears away with a thumb, and grabs his dad’s hand. They hold onto each other, firmly. When Rey returns to the bathroom, her real smile has returned, and they spend the rest of dinner laughing and talking about nothing.

And it means everything.

***

Kes drives back home from the restaurant after hugging Rey and Poe fiercely, and Poe takes Rey back to his apartment. Bee sits patiently in the backseat, always alert and waiting.

Rey’s sitting in his passenger side seat, her feet propped up on the dashboard – despite his insistence that such an action was assuredly not safe – and every so often her hand drifts over to his side so she can touch him softly, briefly, in various places. It’s driving him a little mad.

“I just realized something,” Rey says almost sleepily. He wouldn’t be surprised if she needed a nap; she and Kes had demolished a ‘piece’ of cake that was more realistically half a cake.

“What, Sunshine?” He grins at her quickly before redirecting his attention to the road.

“We never sang you Happy Birthday,” Rey stretches slightly, arching her back out while she adjusts to a more comfortable position in the seat. “That’s a thing people do on their birthdays, right?”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Poe starts, but Rey cuts him off.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,” her smile is audible the entire time she sings. He’s never heard her sing before; of course her voice is as beautiful as she is.  “Happy birthday dear Poe, happy birthday to you.” The car is silent when she finishes, and Poe fights the urge to pull over and kiss her. It’s silly, really. Almost every kid in the English-speaking world knows that song, but it sounds different when she sings it. Like it means something when she sings it.

“Thanks, Sunshine,” he says softly.

They get home, and Bee runs up the steps behind them. Their hands are tangled together, and Poe kisses her joyfully, pressing her up against his door.

“Wait, wait, wait, keys!” He laughs into her mouth. Rey makes a small noise of protest, and slips her small hands over his back, under his jacket. “I need my keys!” Rey distracts him for another thirty seconds, and he pushes her further into the door.

**

Somehow they manage to get the door open, Bee barking at them the whole time, and they stumble into Poe’s apartment giggling. He keeps kissing her, and Rey doesn’t ever want him to stop. She lets him pull her into his bedroom, and her heart is pounding. _Maybe now?_ She thinks. _Maybe tonight_?

There are things they need to talk about – like the ring his father had mentioned, which makes Rey’s stomach tight with anxiety and apprehension; but then again it seemed like Poe was adamantly against whatever his dad wanted, so maybe Kes had just been teasing him – but she doesn’t really want to talk right now.

She sits on the bed, and watches as he kicks his shoes off. He walks up to the bed, and she grabs his hands and lies back, pulling him over her. They kiss unhurriedly, and there’s more laughter than anything else. Rey feels light, and happy, like a bubble of light is expanding in her chest. It’s a feeling she’s growing more and more used to with Poe.

“So I take it you had a good birthday, Major?” She teases him.

Poe laughs and kisses her on the nose. “The best, Miss Niima,” he confirms. “Thirty-two is promising to be a good year.” Then he groans and hangs his head.

“What?” She asks, running her fingers along his stubbled cheek.

“I just can’t believe I’m nine years older than you now, Sunshine. Ugh, I’m an old man.” Poe runs his thumb along the length of her jaw and kisses her breathless.

Rey laughs at him, trying to thrust her hips against his, which earns a pleased groan from the man. “It seems like you’re doing just fine. Besides, you’re only eight years older than me, Poe.”

“I thought you said you were 23? I don’t want to brag, but I did major in math, and I was pretty good at it.” Poe slowly runs his lips over Rey’s throat, and she giggles at him, her silly pilot.

“I’m sure you’re very good at math,” Rey pets his head soothingly and reaches up for a kiss, which he provides with a smile. “And, I _was_ 23 when we met. But I’m 24 now.” Poe stops kissing her and pushes up on his hands, so he’s hovering over her. Rey pouts and tries to pull him back, but he ignores her tugging at his belt loop.

“Rey, when was your birthday? Please tell me it was before we started dating.”

“Um.” Rey shifts uncomfortably under him, and he rolls all the way off and kneels on the bed. She follows him, sighing, and sits cross-legged to face him. “No?”

“When—when was it?” Poe looks aghast, and Rey feels a little guilty, but also a lot like she doesn’t want to talk about this.

She folds her arms defensively across her chest and looks steadily at his shoulder, anywhere but his face, when she says, “November 2nd.”

Even without looking at his face, she can see him move to cover his mouth with his hand. She can see that the lines of his body are tense. “Sweetheart, that was last week.” Rey nods, knowing he’s studying her expression. She keeps as still as possible, hoping he’ll drop the subject. Of course he doesn’t. “Rey, that—that was the day I threw you out of your fucking bed.”

“Yes, I suppose it was.”

“I spent all day with you, and you thought the subject was irrelevant? Maybe you could have mentioned it somewhere between the part where I woke you up while screaming like an animal, and the part where I spent an hour between your legs.” It’s a lower blow than she would have expected from him, but Rey doesn’t even flinch. She’s too incensed.  

“It’s just a day, Poe, it doesn’t matter. It started off a little strangely, but I would have wanted to spend the day with you no matter what. I liked how the day went.”

“Did you do something with Finn and Rose later?” Poe’s yanking on his hair anxiously, and Rey wishes he would let it – and this topic – go.

“No. But they know I don’t like to talk about my birthday.” She doesn’t mean to snap, but she does. _So this is what a couple’s fight feels like,_ she thinks idly.

“Just—just a day?” Poe circles back. “Rey, you just went to dinner for my birthday, got me a birthday present, sang me Happy Birthday, and – and made me come so hard I saw stars. Why did you do all that if a birthday is just a day?”

“No, no, your birthday is important,” Rey dismisses him with a wave of her hand, finally looking at his face. “I liked doing all those things because I like you. You care about your birthday, and I’m glad you were born, so of course it makes sense to celebrate your birthday.”

“Just not yours.” Poe squints at her, tilting his head. “Rey, why wouldn’t you tell me it was your birthday? I wouldn’t have pushed you to do anything you didn’t want to do, but I would have liked to have known, so I’d feel like less of an asshole for not knowing your birthday happened a week ago.”

“You know now, isn’t that enough?” Rey bites her lip, not wanting to say anything else.

“Sweetheart, is any of that enough? Why—why wouldn’t you want me to know when your birthday was?”

“Because I knew you’d react like this,” Rey snaps. “Everyone always does. I don’t want to be made a fuss over, I don’t want people to know, and I don’t want to think about my fucking birthday.” She’s about to cry, but mostly because she’s pissed. Not at Poe, just at how seething helplessness is clawing its way out of her throat.

“Baby,” Poe leans forward slowly and makes it clear he’s about to put his hands on her knees. Rey nods, abruptly, hoping that will pacify him, even if she doesn’t really want to be touched right now. He starts rubbing circles into her shins over her leggings, which normally would feel lovely, but currently make her want to slap his hands away. “What’s wrong?”

Rey shakes her head, feeling the tears form, unstoppable now. She pushes at Poe’s hands, and he pulls away immediately – and _of course she wants him to touch her again now, why doesn’t she ever know what she wants?_ – and she takes a shuddering breath before whispering, “Ben Kenobi died on my tenth birthday. I don’t really like to remember that.”

“Rey,” Poe says, but she ignores him, and keeps going.

“His heart gave out, and I didn’t know CPR, so all I could do was hold his hand while he died.”

“Rey, sweetheart—”

“I didn’t know what to do next. I just. Froze? I didn’t even call 911. I walked to our neighbor’s house, but they lived eight miles away. It’s always hot in that part of Arizona, and it was record-breaking that day.” Rey feels like she’s talking to Poe from a different room, her spine stiff, and her eyes stare forward over his shoulder while she remembers the worst day of her life. “I walked eight miles through the desert because I was too fucking stupid to pick up Ben’s phone. But it felt wrong, you know? I’d lived with him for almost seven years, but I still felt like his stuff was his stuff, and I didn’t want to touch it without permission. And he never made me feel like that, but I came to him after being in five different homes, and they made me feel like that. I lived in five different homes before I was four years old, because Ben was the first person who ever wanted me to say, and he died in front of me.”

“Rey, sweetheart, you don’t have to tell me more if you don’t want to.” Poe tries to lean into her line of sight, but she closes her eyes and shakes her head. This story is coming out now, all of it, apparently.

“Anyway, I managed to tell the neighbor that Ben was dead, and that’s all I remember. Apparently I collapsed from heat exhaustion and probably general shock as well. I woke up in the hospital twelve hours later, and they let me out in time for his funeral.” She remembers throwing herself on the casket, sobbing, before a social worker yanked her away. They took Arty away after the funeral, too.

“The funeral was paid for by Padme Amidala, which was nice. They knew each other before she was president; they worked together in the 60’s.” Rey wipes her eyes and cheeks, and is shocked by how much water she comes away with. She’s crying hard, but not sobbing. Her voice is steady, and her chest is hollow. She can’t imagine what she looks like. But, Poe had wanted to know, and she hasn’t talked about this ever outside of therapy, so she plows through.

“I went to live with a different foster father after that. And. And he was a lot different than Ben.” Rey puts her hand over the scar on her hip subconsciously, and Poe’s hand comes to rest over hers.

“My tenth birthday was the worst day of my life. So, no. I’m actually not sorry for hiding it from you.”

“Sweetheart.” Rey finally looks back at Poe. He’s staring at her, and there are tears on his face. Rey feels the ridiculous urge to comfort him, so she holds her arms out. Poe moans slightly, and he surges forward, wrapping her in his arms and tugging them down to the bed. He kisses her hair, and he leaves his mouth in place to whisper, “I'm sorry for pushing you, I'm sorry I'm an asshole. But thank you. Thank you for telling me, Sunshine. You’re so brave.” He keeps whispering sweet things to her, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her nose. Rey closes her eyes against his praise, and tries to relax into his embrace.

She didn’t tell him everything, though. She doesn’t tell him about how she woke up, slightly, in the hospital, eyes too heavy to open. She doesn’t talk about the people who argued over her bed, her social worker, and two other men.

            _“I can take her,” a man’s voice said. He sounded kind, but gruff. It was a nice voice. “Please, Ben would have wanted her to stay with someone he trusted. He loved her.”_

_“I’m sorry, Mr. Skywalker.” Her social worker doesn’t sound sorry. “But she’s already going to a new foster home. Mr. Plutt is more than qualified, and there are two other children already there. It would take months for us to place her with you, classes you have to take, courses you need to pass – it’s better for everyone if she goes with the known quantity.”_

_“Fuck the known quantity,” another man’s voice breaks in. It’s the voice of a man who’s used to being heard. Rey struggles to open her eyes –_ and in the present, Rey frowns slightly. Poe continues to whisper into her hair, but she can’t hear him. She needs to place that voice. She knows that voice now. She recognizes it, but from where? – _but the doctor sighs heavily and pushes a button. Sickly cold liquid enters her body, and she relaxes again. The second man talks again, as if from a great distance. “If you’re worried about Luke’s place not being set up for kids, Leia and I can take her until he’s ready. Our son just left for college – we can take her in the meantime. Don’t just give her away to a stranger.”_

_“To her, you **are** a stranger. I’m sorry, but my hands are tied.” _

_Rey fights against her tired eyes. The second man’s shouting again, and the first, kinder man is quiet. She wants to go with the man who knew Ben. She wants Ben. She wants –_

_Darkness is all that’s left._

In the present, Rey’s eyes open.

Poe Dameron kisses her on the temple, whispering something in Spanish – “ _Te adoro_ ” – but all she can think about is the voice of the second man, the one who had fought for her in a hospital room in 2004.

The voice belonged to Han Solo. Han Solo was there the day Ben died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~~~the plot returns next chapter pretty solidly~~~~
> 
>  
> 
> Translation from Poe/Kes's conversation:  
> "Shara la habría amado,” (Kes): Shara would have loved her.  
> “Yo se,” (Poe): I know  
> “Deberías darle el anillo,” (Kes): You should give her the ring.  
> “Solo hemos estado saliendo por unas semanas, papá.” (Poe): We've only been dating a few weeks, dad.
> 
> "Si pudiera hacerlos reír, obtuve un mejor precio.” (Rey) If I could make them laugh, I got a better price.  
> “¿Y arregla una transmisión manual por cien dolares? Que ganga." (Rey): Fixing a manual transmission for 100 dollars? What a deal.
> 
> "Con permiso": excuse me
> 
>  
> 
> (the song Rey references is "Fare Thee Well" and hearkens back to Chapter One)


	12. Hidden in the Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe/Rey cuddle; Rey hangs out with Han and Ben shows up; Poe gets an incredibly unwelcome visitor; Ben and Rey start to become something slightly more than enemies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: other than cursing and some heavy references to mental illness/vague threats, it's actually a fairly T-rated installment.
> 
> Warning 1: Ben tells Rey about Poe's past, and he references a bad reaction Poe had while initially recovering from his torture.  
> Warning 2: A character (canon villain) shows up and makes some fairly disturbing threats to Poe.

Rey knows that she shuts down in Poe’s arms the night of his birthday. Luckily he doesn’t question it when she rolls over and falls asleep thirty minutes after her revelation. He just wraps his arms around her and continues to kiss her neck soothingly. It feels so nice, and she feels every second like she doesn’t deserve it. It’s the last thought she has before sleep takes her.

When she wakes up disoriented after midnight, he gets up too, digs around for a clean shirt and sweatpants for her, and leaves the room so she can change while he walks Bee. After a few minutes of just staring at the wall, Rey manages to unzip her dress partway and wiggle out of it. The shirt goes on, but then she stares at the pants in her hand and bursts into tears. Suddenly the thought of moving for even five more seconds is overwhelming, and she cries like she hasn't in years.

She doesn’t know how long she stands there for, but eventually Poe knocks on the door, and she can’t respond. Rey grips the dresser and sobs, loudly, uncontrollably.

“Sweetheart?” He sounds alarmed. “I’m – I’m going to come in, now.” The door opens and she hears a string of curses in Spanish. There are rapid footsteps, and she can sense Poe behind her, but she screws her eyes up and cries harder. “Can I touch you? Is it okay to touch you?” Poe asks her, in Spanish first, and then in English.

Rey nods, and then chokes out, “Yes, please,” and she manages to turn around just in time for him to pull her in to his chest.

“Sweetheart,” Poe breathes into her hair. “ _Mi amor._ ”

She realizes that she’s saying something, choked and mumbled into his shirt. “I can’t,” a broken litany, over and over again. “I can’t do it. I’m so tired.”

“You don’t have to,” he tells her. “You don’t have to do anything, darling girl. I’ll help you. You never have to do anything by yourself again, if you don’t want to.” Rey collapses further into his arms, the ragingly independent spirit inside her snarling in self-hatred, but every other part of her seeking more, more comfort, more solace, more Poe. “Do you want to put these on?” He asks her, nosing her ear gently and taking the sweatpants out of her shaking hands. Rey nods, helpless, and Poe’s hands come around to wipe tears off her cheeks with his thumbs.

“Yes,” Rey says, nodding miserably. Poe kneels down immediately and smiles at her, rubbing circles into the sides of her legs.

“Just step into them, sweetheart. I got you.” He holds the pants open at the top and says softly, “Put your hands on my shoulders, I won’t let you fall.”

Something about that statement makes her start crying again, but she does what he suggests, and soon he’s pulling them up and over her hips. They’re standing face to face again, and Poe leaves his hands under her waist.

“Can I hold you?” He asks, as if sensing that she wants that and is too afraid to ask for it. Rey tucks her face into his neck and nods. “Let’s get you into bed,” he whispers.

They’re only five feet away from the mattress, but Poe bends his knees, grabs the back of her thighs, and pulls her up into his arms so she rests against his hips. He releases a large puff of air when he sets her back down on the bed. She makes a small noise of concern, but he brushes it off. “I guess I really am old, Sunshine.” Poe smiles at her, eyes softened by his laugh lines, and he lies down to the side of her.

Poe tugs her back into his arms, and he lets her cry, and cry. She falls asleep like that, face buried in his chest, and when she dreams, she dreams of nothing but the desert, endless and vast, and barren of an old man with kind eyes and a soft voice.

***

It’s Sunday, which means she gets to spend time with Han. She’s been invited regularly to the large house he and Leia share, a fifteen minute drive away from her apartment. It’s a beautiful house, from the Antebellum era, and she likes the warm familiarity of the hand-picked furniture and thick rugs.

“You look like hell, kid,” was all Han said when he picked her up this morning.

“Thanks,” she had laughed. But then she’d gone back to over-thinking, her usual go-to when she felt backed into a corner. She over-thinks all through lunch, smiling weakly and answering questions, trying to make small talk. She misses the sad look Leia and Han exchange, too lost in her own thoughts to pay close attention to her surroundings.

She likes Leia, she likes Han, and she likes Chewbacca. She likes how welcome they always make her feel. But today she’s incredibly nervous, bile rising in her throat as the memory that had come roaring back to her last night keeps bouncing around her head.

Han Solo had tried to take her in, fourteen years ago. Does he remember her? Why did he want her? Why didn’t he come back for her? She’s pieced together that Luke is Leia’s brother – she knows Leia changed her name when she went into politics, not wanting to be attached to the  former president or her disgraced general of a father – and she wants to know why so few of the pictures on their walls hold his image.

She spots a picture of Leia with a man who must be Luke, judging by the way their arms are slung around each other, on their way over to the garage after lunch. This is usually her favorite part of her visits, where Han gives her nice tools and lets her go wild making modifications to his veritable fleet of cars, but today she can barely think straight. Which is probably why she asks, voice shaking, “Who’s that man in the photo with Leia?”

It gives her a reason to stop and look at it closer.  

“That’s Luke, Leia’s twin brother.” Han confirms her suspicion. “Great kid. My best friend, really. Haven’t heard from him in a few years.”

“Where did he go?” Rey asks. Han smiles at her, and until this second she didn’t know he could look forlorn.

“That’s a story for another time, Rey.” Han grasps her shoulder and turns to keep walking towards the garage door. He stops with his hand on the knob. “Could you – look, I don’t want to sound mean, but please don’t ask Leia about him.”

“Of course.” She tucks her curiosity, and her burning questions, away for the time being. She just remembered Han’s place in her childhood last night, after fourteen years. A few more weeks couldn’t hurt.

They talk about cars, a safe subject, for an hour. They’re working on the Falcon today, and Rey loves hearing the stories about the old van in its glory days, which is how Han refers to them, nostalgically, while he hands Rey a lug wrench.

There’s a loud laugh behind them. “I thought the glory days were still happening for that hunk of junk.”

Rey spins around and clutches her chest. Kylo Ren – Ben Solo – is standing in the doorway sheepishly, his mother at his elbow.

“He showed up an hour ago,” Leia informs them, a strange smile on her face. _Nervous._ Leia looks nervous. “And he insists that I really can’t feed him another bite, so I figured he could be of some use out here.”

Han clears his throat awkwardly. “Sure.” When Rey looks over at him, she sees that the back of his neck is red. “That’d – that’d be great.”

Ben’s wearing a blue t-shirt and jeans. It’s the most dressed down she’s ever seen him, and he’s holding himself differently. He looks younger, and way less douchey, more like someone Rey wouldn’t mind talking to, less like someone she’d dropkick for looking at her funny.

“If you don’t want him here, just tell me,” Han whispers to her under his breath. Rey shakes her head. Ben’s his son, he should be here. Judging by the tentative joy on Leia’s face, a visit from him isn’t that common.

“Of course he can be here,” Rey whispers back. “I can refrain from kicking his ass for a few hours.”

Han laughs, a real one, and hands her his tools.

“Well, let’s put you to work, kid.” Ben wanders over, and soon the three of them are arguing over the best way to adjust the carburetor. Rey wins the argument, and Han digs around in a storage bin for a crown, and places it on her head.

“Fit for an Empress,” Kylo— _Ben –_ notes with only a hint of sarcasm. He bows, deeply, hand at his waist, and Rey chuckles despite her previous loathing of him. He seems different today, a different person entirely. She’s wary of him still, but with Han as a buffer, they’re getting along.

An hour later, Leia calls to Han that she needs help hanging something up.

“I’ll be up in a second, sweetheart!”

“Han Solo, I only married you because you were tall, now come help!”

“Work, work, work,” Han grumbles. “You okay out here by yourself?” He asks, clearly for Rey’s benefit, and both she and Ben nod. “I’ll be right up, Your Worshipfulness!” Han shouts to his wife.

“Beers are in the cooler, Ben,” Han points. “But leave the Blue Moon, those are mine.”

Ben nods, rolling his eyes and snags an IPA. “Okay, dad.” He plunks it down on the workbench and grabs a wrench, returning to the car.

“You’re welcome to them too, Rey,” Han says gently, nudging her on the shoulder. He leans in conspiratorially. “ _You_ can have a Blue Moon, just don’t tell him.” He straightens back up and gives her a roguish wink. He says in his normal voice, “And there’s always soda if you don’t want beer.”

“Are you sure?” Rey asks. He offers every week, and she checks every week. She doesn’t think she’ll ever stop seeking confirmation that someone wants her to have something.

“Of course,” he grins at her, something soft in his usually shrewd eyes. “I even got orange. I know it’s your favorite. Chewie, keep an eye on the kids,” Han orders to his wolfhound, who huffs in acknowledgement, but then puts his head right back down on his crossed paws. “Some help you are, dog.”

Han tugs on Rey’s ponytail on his way out of the garage, and when he opens the door to the rest of the house, she can hear Leia shouting, “While some of us are still young, Solo!”

Rey giggles and takes out a Fanta, fiddling with the can. Then she stops giggling when she remembers that she’s now alone with Ben Solo/Kylo Ren, who’s still poking around in the engine block of his dad’s car.

She kicks her feet around awkwardly, and she waits for him to move so she can jump back in and work. He’s much broader than his father – which honestly makes no sense because Leia is one of the tiniest adult women she’s ever met, so shouldn’t he, if anything, be smaller than his dad? – and she doesn’t want to bump elbows with her formal mortal enemy while tooling around in a transmission.

As if sensing her discomfort, Ben throws her a smirk over his shoulder, and it pisses her off enough that she throws a sharp smile right back, not to be outdone.

“You can talk, you know,” Ben calls as he ratchets something into place below the hood.

“You want me to talk?” Rey asks curiously. “I thought you preferred to just mercilessly hit on me and watch me squirm.”

Ben immediately stops digging around and turns to face her. His face is pale under the sheen of sweat, and there’s a small smear of grease on his forehead. “What?”

“You know,” Rey shifts uncomfortably. That’s not the reaction she expected; she expected something more like a pointed barb. “Like how you used to come into the Resistance and loom over me. Like when you threatened to shut us down if I didn’t go on a date with you?”

“Oh, fuck,” Ben groans. He buries his face in his hands, forgetting he’s holding a wrench. “Ow, shit.” He stares at the offending wrench and then chucks it in the toolbox. Ben folds his arms over his chest and looks at her with an exasperated expression on his face. “So my dad wasn’t joking? I really did creep you out. Fuck, I’m an idiot.”

“I mean you definitely are,” Rey encourages. “But why this time?”

“Because,” Ben shakes his head and walks a few feet closer to her. He thinks better of it and freezes in place. He doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands, so they go right back under his armpits while he stares at the ground. “Because I thought you were flirting with me? Which is stupid, and trust me my mom’s yelled at me for probably a total of ten hours about not hitting on vulnerable women when they’re trying to do their job, and I’m sorry. But, I wouldn’t actually have made you go on the date if I thought you didn’t want to. I mean, I definitely would have closed you guys down eventually if you couldn’t pay, but I would have given you a few months to adjust to the new rent.”

“That was really, very not clear,” Rey informs him. “I believe the words ‘mild sexual terror,’ describe how I felt about it.”

Ben flushes a deep red, and it goes down his entire pale neck. “Fucking fuck, I’m a fucking asshole, my dad is right. I’m uh – I’m really sorry.” He looks incredibly earnest, and Rey likes to think she has a fairly well-tuned sense for when someone’s lying. Ben is an asshole yes, but he’s an honest asshole.

“If it’s any consolation, I often thought that if only you weren’t so creepy, you’d be handsome,” Rey offers.

“That’s definitely a consolation, and one I don’t deserve, scavenger.” He regards her with an unfathomable expression.

“Still with ‘scavenger’? You do realize that I ‘scavenged’ the part you just fixed.” Rey regards him coolly.

“It’s a term of endearment. A nickname.” Ben grins at her and goes to grab his drink.

“I don’t think it counts as ‘endearment’ when it calls to mind rodents and vultures, Solo.” She smirks at his back while he flaps an unconcerned hand over his shoulder. “Speaking of nicknames, why Kylo?” Rey asks, scrunching her nose and cracking open her soda. She plunks down on a crate, and Ben snorts as he turns around with a beer and sits down on another crate a foot or two away from her.

“It was something stupid I thought of once when I was wasted after undergrad. I go by Kylo professionally, Ben personally,” he shrugs. He tosses a swath of hair out of his eyes. “When you go into military contracting, it’s best if you don’t have the name of one of the greatest fighter pilots of all time attached to you. Makes people think you can pull favors that aren’t possible.”

“But can’t you?” Rey kicks at him playfully, and Ben shoves her shoulder.

“God, I wouldn’t even dream of asking Han for anything. That would just make my dad even more insufferable than he already is.” Ben laughs into his drink.

“Don’t talk about your dad like that,” Rey says quietly.

“Oh, come on, he’d disappoint you too. He’s kind of a jackass.” Ben grins darkly.

“No he isn’t,” Rey bites her lip and looks away from him. She still doesn’t know why she’s talking to this man, but in the comfort of his family home, it’s like he’s a different person. Charismatic, funny, and if not kind, he’s at the very least attentive. “He isn’t, Ben. He loves you, and he stuck around for you, and he’s not a jackass.” She makes herself look over at her former landlord, and she tries not to think about how close she’d come to having Han Solo or his brother-in-law as a father.

Ben’s gazing at her appraisingly. “Okay,” he says thoughtfully. “He isn’t a jackass.” He quirks his mouth, considering something. A second later he says, staring at some spot on the ground feet away, “Your boyfriend though. He’s a real piece of work.”

“I beg your pardon?” Rey’s hackles rise, and she doesn’t even stop to consider Ben’s assumption that Poe’s her boyfriend. They’re certainly dating, but they haven’t discussed a label for it. Rey had been too scared to ask for such a confirmation. When somebody becomes something permanent, it’s more painful when they walk away.

“You’re kidding me, right? Poe Dameron, former Air Force fighter pilot. Survived that shit show in Afghanistan?”

Rey nods. “I don’t see your point. So Poe’s a veteran. He’s been through more than you ever will.” Her voice surges protectively around the idea of her pilot.

Ben shrugs. “Maybe. But Christ, Rey, that guy’s violent.”

 _Poe?_ “What do you mean?”

“Has he ever hit you?” Ben answers with a question.

“That’s really fucking personal,” Rey snaps indignantly.

“Is that a yes?” Ben hisses, and he leans down, studying her face intently while looking furious. His eyes immediately go to her wrist and arm, where the bruises from her fall are still yellowing, and then they flick back up to her cheek where the cut from the tree branch is mostly healed. “Did he fucking do that to you?”

                                          

“Poe Dameron wouldn’t hurt a fly,” she throws back at him. “I’m accident-prone is all.” Rey is legitimately confused by this line of questioning, and she’s more than a little uncomfortable to be talking about Poe when he isn’t here.

Ben snorts. “That’s not an original excuse, Rey. If he’s hurting you, you need to tell someone. Even if he isn’t doing it on purpose. It’s not right.”

 _What?_ “What do you mean, ‘on purpose’?” Rey feels something crawling down her spine. Something that Poe had said – when he’d woken up and had been so frantic to know if he’d hurt her – is making unfortunate connections in her mind to Ben’s current reaction.

“Did he – does he hurt you on accident?” Ben’s knuckles are bone-white under his skin as he clutches at his beer and waits for her to answer.

Rey frowns. “No, I legitimately fell, I’m fairly clumsy.” She doesn’t mention the circumstances for her falling; it would only vindicate Ben’s suspicions. “But what the fuck are you talking about, Solo? And why do you even care?”

Something works furiously in Ben’s jaw. “Look, it just – shit, it’s not my place to tell you any of this, but fuck it – it really pissed me off to see you two together that night at the Cantina. And I know I was an asshole, I had been drinking, which isn’t really an excuse for hitting on you when you were wasted. But Jesus, seeing you with him made my blood boil. I’m a general asshole, yeah, but Rey, that guy can do some serious damage.”

“As I recall, I kicked your ass that night, not him.” She doesn’t really recall any of it, but she had been shown some very grainy cell phone footage by a gleeful Lando.

“Yeah,” and Ben’s glower is briefly replaced by a fond grin. “That was amazing. Fuck, you’re glorious when you fight. You handed my ass to me, and you weigh like a hundred pounds less than I do. We should spar sometime.”

Rey stares at him in confusion. “You’re very rudely asking me if Poe’s been abusing me, but at the same time you’re asking if I want to hang out with you in the future?”

“Yeah,” Ben raises his eyebrows and nods, considering her point while staring at the car in front of them. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Why are you so convinced he’s violent?” Rey needles. She wants to know, even if her stomach is twisting from this entire conversation.

“The guy’s – fuck, I don’t want to say ‘damaged goods,’ but I don’t know how else to phrase it?” Rey opens her mouth to yell at him, because that is a fucking terrible way to phrase it, but Ben rushes forward hurriedly, holding a hand up to pleadingly ask her to wait. “I mean, I knew him before the incident.” That’s another shitty way to phrase Poe’s experience as a prisoner of war. “And he was a pompous jackass. Hot-headed is what my mom would call it if she were trying to be diplomatic. He was cocky, arrogant. Damn good pilot though. Almost as good as my dad.”

“Anyway, some seriously sketchy shit went down in the Afghanistan. I won’t tell you the details if you don’t know, there’s probably a reason if he hasn’t told you. But, I can, and should, tell you what happened when he got back.” Rey doesn’t say anything. She’s frozen in place, at war with herself. She doesn’t want to violate Poe’s privacy; if he hasn’t told her this, that means Poe doesn’t want her to know, and she wants to respect that. But every survival instinct she owns, the ones she earned and honed for years, is screaming at her to find out.

He takes her silence for approval. “When he was recovering in the hospital, the First Order showed up to analyze his reaction to the whole thing, to see how the interrogation techniques affected his brain. There’s a reason I left that company. They did some incredibly fucked up things, and poking around veterans’ brains is just one of them.” Ben shakes his head and looks at Rey out of the corner of his eye.

“When he woke up, your boyfriend threw two nurses across the room and choked one of my colleagues half to death. It happened so fucking fast, we barely responded in time. It took five of us to restrain him, and he was screaming the whole time that he was going to kill us all.”

Rey winces at the image, tears burning at her eyes. She feels sick to her stomach, and she wishes she could take it back, she really wishes she didn’t know this. She wants to think that Ben is lying, but who could make something like that up; why would he lie knowing that it could backfire and make her hate him?

“Rey, you need to be careful with that guy. I’m fucking sorry I was an asshole when we met, and I really regret coming on to you like that. Honestly though, fuck, I honestly thought you were flirting back. I’m an asshole, and I shouldn’t have treated you like that. I’m sorry. But if you’re sleeping with him…you should know what you’re lying down next to, in case he tries to hurt you.”

“Stop,” she whispers. “I don’t want to hear any more. Poe wouldn’t hurt me. He isn’t like that; he probably only reacted like that because he was scared, because he’d just been through something awful. He might not have known where he was, or what he was doing. And for you to try to pretend that he’s been turned into a bad person, into some kind of monster because of what some sick fucks did to him. Ben, it’s – it’s not okay. I know the difference. I’d know if he were the kind of person that would hurt me like that because—” She cuts herself off, because Ben Solo hasn’t earned that part of her story. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

“Okay,” Ben looks at her sadly and then looks back at the exposed engine in front of them. “Okay, I’m sorry. You should – you needed to know. And I’m fucking sorry to overstep. Believe it or not, my mother did raise me with manners. There’s a lot more to tell you, but he should be the one to tell you. He owes you an explanation.”

“Poe doesn’t owe anyone anything,” Rey argues. “He’s been through enough.”

“Yeah,” he nods and sets his beer down before standing. He grabs a wrench from the toolbox and starts to dig around in the open hood of the car. “But I’m guessing you have too, huh?” What she can see of his neck and ears is red.

Rey stares at Ben’s back for a long time before she gets up to help him.

**

***

 Poe settles down in an outdoor cafe after church and tucks his guitar under the table. He hadn’t – hasn’t, really – been great about going, not since he was a teenager, but he’d needed something to do this morning while Rey was off with Han Solo. He laughs softly at the thought of Rey charming the old bastard enough that she’s got a standing invitation to hang out with Solo and his formidable wife. Church had been strangely soothing, the Spanish of the Mass washing over him and giving him an excuse not to focus on anything while he fell into deeply ingrained habits.

Now he’s got the rest of his afternoon stretching ahead of him, and he has plans to get some work done on a song. He’s just starting to write – there’s been an idea rolling around in his head since the night of his birthday – when the chair in front of him is pulled out.

He frowns and squints up into the sunlight. A man with distinctive facial scarring is standing there, smiling at him.

“May I sit here?” He asks. His voice sets Poe on edge immediately.

“Uh, sure,” Poe shrugs. He can always leave if he needs to. He pulls his notebook closer to him and coughs slightly. Bee leans into his ankle, picking up on the tension. Before he can start writing again, the stranger speaks.

“You may not know me, Major Dameron, but I know you.”

Poe feels like a thousand needles are pricking him at once. _Run,_ the anxious half of his brain begs. _Fight,_ the traitorous, stupider half argues.

Naturally, he talks instead. “I can’t say that I do know you, Mister --”

“Reginald Snoke,” The man smiles, and it’s grim, real fucking grim. Poe ignores the proffered hand.

He feels his brow lower. He knows the name. “Snoke? Snoke as in...CEO of The First Order?” Poe asks, now even more wary than before. He snaps his journal shut, and he drops his hands under the table. The cool, wet nose of Bee immediately bumps against his knuckles.

“The one and the same.” The old man does not have a pleasant smile. Poe thinks of slime, of filth, of rotting garbage.

“What brings you to Raleigh, Mr. Snoke?” Poe feigns casual interest, but his mind is racing. He’d answered FO’s questions a year ago. What could they possibly want? A follow-up scan of his brain? Couldn’t they just request that from the VA?

“I thought that would be obvious. I’m here to see you, of course.”

“Well, you saw me. Hi. Goodbye.” Poe shifts, intending to grab his notebook again, but Snoke laughs, and it’s a cold, echoing cackle. He freezes in his seat and stares at the older man.

“You are fun, aren’t you? I had my suspicions after your little stunt at the hospital last year. You’ll do quite nicely.”

 _This is where he makes a skin suit out of me,_ Poe thinks wonderingly. _I definitely saw this on Criminal Minds._

“I’ll do nicely for what, now?” Poe asks, not caring enough to control his voice into a polite tone. He doesn’t even address Snoke’s jab at his mildly publicized breakdown.

“I have an exciting proposition for you. My company has just designed several new fighter jets, faster than even the Raptor F-22, your old favorite.” Poe misses his bird more than anything else from his time in the service. As far as inanimate objects go, at least. “And as you’re the best pilot in this century, I’d like for you to test them for me.”

“No thanks.” His answer is brutally easy to give. Nothing else for the bastards at The First Order. They’ve gotten enough out of him.

Snoke’s face doesn’t change, but his voice suddenly sounds cold, sharp, like the metal of a dagger. “You don’t get to say ‘no thanks’ to me, boy. Let me try again. When are you available to test pilot our new models?”

Even before the torture and the soul-crushing loss of his friends, Poe didn’t have a lot of patience. He’s definitely out of that quality now. “I don’t know who the fuck you think you are—”

“Ah, ah, ah. I’m just here to ask you to fly a few new toys, Major Dameron. That’s all. You’re an extraordinary man. Not many could survive what you went through, let alone withstand interrogation for that long. I think you would do well with the First Order. We might even be able to re-establish your public image, your reputation with the military. You could fly again, Major. I know you miss it.”

“I’m done with all of that shit. Taking orders, flying, and especially the First Order,” Poe spits.

“But Poe, the First Order isn’t done with you,” Snoke sighs, and steeples his long fingers together. Poe clenches his fists under the table. “It’s funny, really. Millions of dollars, most of which _we_ provided to the military, went into training you, the most promising pilot this country’s seen in decades. And yet here you are, unemployed, attending therapy four times a week, licking your wounds while playing house with an orphan from the desert who has no idea who you actually are.”

“What?” Adrenaline sears through his veins in a way that he hasn’t felt since active combat.

“Now, don’t get me wrong, Rey Niima is a very pretty young woman. I can see how she would be…distracting. Distracting from your gifts, from your purpose.”

“Fuck you.” Poe’s vibrating with fury. “How do you even know her name?” Poe hated killing, had gritted his teeth against it every time it was required in his past life. He wants to kill Snoke now, though. He thinks he’d even enjoy it, if only because it would guarantee that twisted mouth would never form the most precious name in the galaxy ever again.

“It’s my job to know things,” Snoke is smirking, clearly glad to have gotten a rise out of him. Poe forces himself to breathe slowly, to forget the terror that’s slamming into his heart. “For instance, I know that she lives with a delinquent named Finn Trooper, also an orphan. And a young woman named Rose Tico, whose parents served in the military before retiring to start a pathetic little coffee shop, which she now runs despite having an IQ that would qualify her for any profession of her choice. A duo of overwhelming underperformance. Your girlfriend though,” Snoke’s smile is nothing short of evil now. “I hear she’s an incredibly talented bioengineer. Even if she had no connection to you, I would have learned of her by now. Bright mind, lack of an anchor, incredible potential, and a desperate need to feel loved. Ah yes, she’s a perfect fit for my company.”

“Stay the fuck away from her,” Poe grips his chair so he won’t throw a fist at this monster, which is exactly what Snoke wants; he’d probably request that Poe complete any court-mandated community service or anger management at FO. Bee whines loudly and paws at his shin, but Poe ignores him.

“Let’s see if I can. We’ll be in touch, Major.” Snoke puts a fifty down on the table. “Lunch is on me. And after you think my offer over in the coming weeks, maybe we can discuss things over some coffee.”

When he gets up, Poe starts to stand as well, but he’s shoved back down into the chair by a hulking man who appears seemingly from nowhere. A collection of burly guards follow Snoke off of the patio, and Poe watches a long line of SUVs disappear down the street, carrying the CEO of The First Order away.

He walks for over four hours before he goes home, and when Rey texts him at 1800, he doesn’t respond or even read it. He turns on the shower, jacks the water up as hot as it will go, and sits under the spray, still wearing his boxers and undershirt, his head buried between his knees while he tries to control his breathing. It doesn’t work.

**

“Fuck,” Rey miserably puts her phone in her pocket. Poe hasn’t responded to her text from twenty minutes ago, which slightly worries her. He said he’d pick her up at six, and it’s really unlike him to not follow through on something. But, he did look tired this morning, and he might just be asleep. Rey understands that his medication makes him unreasonably tired, so if he’s passed out on his couch, she can’t begrudge him the rest. However, it doesn’t change the fact that she’s up shit creek. She considers going back inside to ask if she can sleep on their floor because she doesn’t have the money for cab fare.

“What’s wrong?” Ben asks, having come outside. He was clearly on his way to his car at the bottom of the drive.

“Nothing,” Rey sighs.

Ben shrugs and walks past her. “You sure?” He turns around and looks at her. If she didn’t know any better, she’d say his face looked worried.

“I just – I don’t have a ride home,” Rey admits. She’d gotten a ride over here from Han, but now his car’s up on blocks in the garage, and he’s passed out on the couch. Maybe there’s a bus stop nearby, one on a line that will get her somewhere closer to her apartment. If only it wasn’t so fucking dark, she’d walk back. She might have to, anyway.

“I can take you,” Ben offers. He’s holding his keys in one hand, thumb fidgeting over them nervously.

“You don’t need to do that, Solo,” Rey smiles at him weakly. “I can just walk back.”

“Like fuck you can walk back. If you live near that coffee shop, that’s at least an hour walk from here. I know you don’t like me that much, but I swear, I’ll even let you drive, and I can sit in the trunk if it makes you feel better. Just don’t walk home, kid.”

“Kid?” Rey raises an eyebrow at him.

“I stand by my assessment.” He grins at her, and then chucks the keys at her. “So what’s the verdict?”

She catches them one-handed and grins back at him. “Fine. But only because your car is really fucking cool.”

“Hell yeah it is,” Ben enthuses. He sticks his large hands in his pockets and spins on his heel to begin strolling casually to his vintage car. He stops at the passenger side door and looks at her over his shoulder as if to say, _well_?

“Aren’t you supposed to sit in the trunk?” Rey asks drily, moving briskly to the driver’s side.

“Oh, shit, okay.” Ben actually starts walking towards the back of the car.

“I’m kidding! Jesus,” Rey’s laughing, the nervous pit in her stomach from Poe’s lack of response starting to disappear. Ben makes a horrendous face at her, which only makes her laugh harder.

She sits behind the wheel, and turns the key in the ignition. She listens carefully and turns to look at Ben who’s folding his ridiculously tall body into the seat.

“Yeah, I feel it too,” he rolls his eyes. “I’ve been putting off fixing it.”

“That’s a literal crime,” Rey scolds him. “Beautiful car like this – it needs constant care and attention!”

“You should teach me,” Ben offers, folding his hands behind his head. “Help me fix it. I can pay you in sarcastic comments and the knowledge that I’ll never talk to you at work again.”

“Deal.” They grin at each other companionably, and Rey eases up on the clutch and feels a grinding somewhere in the car. “What the fuck did you do to this poor thing?” Rey wails.

“You don’t even want to know.”

"You're a monster," Rey points a finger at him, still looking out the window.

Ben swats at the finger. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Now drive, scavenger."


	13. To Make Bright and Clear Your Path

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn calls Poe and delivers some news that upsets him greatly; Ben brings Rey home and he and Poe have a ~confrontation~ (Les Mis voice); Poe and Rey discuss some of their respective trauma and grow together as a couple; Poe has more nightmares and Rey comforts him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: Mature (also it's fairly dialogue heavy FYI)  
> General warnings: past child abuse; torture
> 
>  
> 
> Warning: Poe grabs Rey without checking for permission when he's panicking (he grabs her by the arms, roughly, not enough to bruise but enough to frighten her)
> 
> Warning 2: Discussions of Poe's torture (electrocution, restraints); he also briefly references a nightmare where Rey dies
> 
> Warning 3: Discussions of Rey's childhood abuse (burns)
> 
> Warning 4: Pretty consistent self-hatred/negative self talk (Poe refers to himself as stupid/idiotic frequently, curses at himself)

Poe ends up staring at the ceiling, lying on the floor of his bedroom after his shower. He doesn’t change, doesn’t even put a towel down, just lies on his back and shakes through the worst of his panic attack. Bee comes and sits on his chest, a welcome and warm weight, for most of it, and he actually gets a hand up to pet him after a while, which he counts as a victory. The walls of the room continue to spin around him, his connection to the present frayed at best. The cloying anxiety inspired by Snoke hammers into his throat for hours.

His phone rings around 2300, and he remembers that he missed Rey’s call earlier. He needs to answer this one, he needs to do _something_ , so he heaves himself over to his dresser, somehow, to answer it. He doesn’t even have the energy to check the screen.

“Hello?” Poe asks, hoping she can’t hear how fucked up he is from his voice.

“Hey, Poe.” It isn’t Rey. It’s Finn. “Could you put Rey on the line? I’m trying to figure out this fucking math problem, but I’m sure I’m doing it the wrong way, and this fuck-ass professor wants us to do it ‘the right way’ if we want credit, whatever the fuck that means.”

“You need to talk to Rey?” Poe clarifies, very confused. Why would Finn call him to talk to Rey? Why doesn’t he just knock on her bedroom door? “Are you at the library?”

“No, dude, I’m home,” Finn grunts in frustration, the sound of a pencil snapping in the background. “I’m sorry to bother you. Normally I’d wait to ask her, but the exam’s tomorrow. Considering she’s been with you all night, _and_ her phone is dead, I had to take desperate measures. Motherfucking _damnit,_ ” he swears, ostensibly at the math problem.

“What?” Poe inhales loudly. And then again. He can’t breathe, can’t catch his breath. _What?_ He slams his head into the edge of the dresser and gasps for air.

Finn laughs. “Oh shit, I caught you at a bad time. Tell Rey I’m sorry to provide the _interruptus_ to her _coitus._ ”

Poe doesn’t respond, he just hyperventilates, a reedy, panicked noise emerging from his throat on every inhale.

“Poe?” Finn’s immediately concerned. “Are you okay?”

“R-rey,” he chokes out. “She’s not with me. I haven’t seen her since this morning.” _When I promised to pick her up at six._ Goddamnit.

“What?” Something thuds on Finn’s end of the line. “She told us she was planning on getting a ride home from you.”

 _Fuck you, you fucking piece of shit._ Poe’s already beating himself up. _You promised her. You fucking promised her, and you forgot because you were feeling sorry for yourself._ “That was the plan, but I uh – I got sick.” That’s a fairly simplistic way to phrase a panic attack that spanned nine hours. “She isn’t home yet?”

“No.” Finn snaps. “She isn’t home. God, she probably tried to walk back. Why the fuck didn’t one of you tell me or Rose? We could have picked her up.”

“Sorry,” Poe’s never meant anything more. “I’m so, so sorry. I’m a fucking idiot, I’m sorry.” He rips at his hair, trying to ground himself in this moment, to not get dragged down into the sucking black pit of his thoughts again. He needs to focus.

“Hey,” Finn sounds softer. “No, I’m sorry, I’m just worried is all. I’m going to drive to the library and see if she’s there. She could have gone to do more research and lost track of time. It’s happened.”

“Okay,” Poe nods. “Okay, and I’ll drive towards Han’s house.” _And resist the urge to call the police, call special forces, call in every favor owed to me by powerful people._

“Sounds like we have a plan, buddy.” Finn is forcibly cheerful. “Knowing her, she just got distracted rescuing a woodland creature in need. Its people have probably elected her queen by now.”

“Yeah,” Poe makes a strangled noise that no one could mistake for a laugh, but Finn doesn’t call him on it. “Text me if you find her?”

“When,” Finn corrects firmly. “We’ll text each other when we find her.”

Finn hangs up first, and Poe looks at his phone finally. There’s two missed calls and four texts from Rey.

The calls are from 18:05 and 18:38.

The texts read:

[17:26]: _Hey! I finished up what I can do today, and Han’s totally passed out on the couch so I don’t think I’m supposed to open up another car. Do you think you could pick me up a little earlier than we planned?_ Attached to the text is a picture of Han Solo, decorated war hero, sleeping with his mouth open.

[17:55]: _You’re probably driving by now, but I’m just texting you so I can avoid talking to YOU KNOW WHO. That’s right, Kylo Fuckface Ren is here, sitting across from me in the living room while his mother tries to make small talk with him. I’m dying. Tbh Ben isn’t a total jackass, but I still don’t want to talk to him a second longer, lmao._

Poe wants to puke. It can’t be a coincidence that Reginald Snoke cornered him the same day Ben Solo walked back into Rey’s life.

[18:18]: _Hey, I guess you’re busy. Don’t worry about picking me up, I’ll figure something out. Hope everything is okay._

He’s an idiot. He’s a fucking _idiot_ like there’s never been an idiot before.

[18:40]: _Ben said he’d give me a ride home. Taking bets on who’s going to kill who first._

Poe dials her number, but it goes straight to voicemail. He tries again, same result. A thousand horrible thoughts go through his head.

Rey, in a ditch on the side of the road.

Rey, abandoned and left for dead.

Rey, trapped in a car with a horrible man with no moral compass and a need to assert his power over everything.

Rey, somehow caught by Snoke in his shitty little web, used as leverage.

Rey, hurt, all his fault.

What the fuck does Ben Solo want from her?

He gets up and yanks on a pair of pants and a dry t-shirt. Poe sprints for the door, only stopping to slip his shoes on. He barrels down the stairs, Bee an anxious blur at his feet and bursts into the parking lot.

Poe spends a minute fumbling with his keys, cussing under his breath. A car pulls up behind him into a visitor’s spot. Even in his panic, he registers a door opening because once upon a time his job, and his life, depended on noticing everything, no matter what he was focusing on. He’s pulling his door open when he hears, “Poe?”

He whirls around, wildly out of breath. “Rey?” She’s standing, wide-eyed, seven feet away from him. The car she just stepped out of idles behind her. He takes a step forward, and then another, and then he’s tumbling all the way forward. He pulls her towards him, rougher than he usually touches her. He sees her shoulders tense from the sudden contact, but he’s frantic to make sure she’s in one piece.

“Rey,” he chokes out. He wraps his arms around her and ducks his head into her neck. “Are you okay?” She doesn’t respond right away, her small hands coming to grip his shoulders. “Rey?”

“I’m fine, Poe,” Rey tugs on him, pushing his shoulders slightly. He leans back and runs his hands over her arms desperately. “Seriously. I’m sorry if I worried you, my phone broke, but I’m okay.”

“I thought you were hurt, or – or—” He’s gripping her arms tightly now, and he knows he must look frightening.

The driver’s side door opens and slams shut, but Poe can only see Rey’s face. He runs his thumbs over the skin above her elbows, rubbing hard circles into her biceps.

“Poe, you’re hurting me,” is what Rey says at the same time a hand pushes on Poe’s chest, viciously.

“Get off her,” Ben Solo is suddenly looming over them both. He looks thunderous, and he steps between Poe and Rey.

“Fuck you, that’s my girlfriend,” Poe snarls back. “Where the fuck did you take her?”

“Poe, it’s not like he kidnapped me,” Rey tugs on Ben’s elbow. “And Ben, it’s fine, I’m fine.” She’s comes around, dodging the arm Ben throws out protectively while he glowers down at Poe. It makes something inside Poe scream in indignation; it makes something inside Poe cringe with the realization that people need protecting from him, now. “Are you two going to be fine?”

“I don’t care if she’s your girlfriend, Dameron,” Ben jabs a finger at him, and Poe has half a mind to rip it off. “You don’t get to touch her like that.”

“Like _what?_ ” Poe snaps. But, at the same time, he knows. Rey had cringed when he touched her, and he knows he had held her far too tightly in his desperation to feel her alive and well under his fingers. But he’s spent the last nine hours in self-destruction, and his brain’s clearly up for some more. “Where did you two go?”

“We ate dinner, Poe,” Rey says calmly. She hesitantly holds her hand out, and when he flicks his eyes away from Ben, he can see the unasked question in her eyes. He holds a hand out towards her, and she takes it in both of hers, running her fingers around his palm soothingly. “I dropped my phone, shattered it actually, when we were eating. We just got caught up talking is all.” There’s something incredibly sad in her face, and when he looks back at Ben, he’s shocked to see the expression echoed. Ben’s face is softer, somehow, when he looks down at Rey. Something’s happened between them, and Poe is way too tired and worked up to figure out what.

It doesn’t change the fact that he’s beyond suspicious of Ben’s intentions. “If you so much as laid a hand on her without her permission,” Poe begins, and Ben opens his mouth, probably to shout over him, but they’re both quickly cut off by Rey, who snatches her hand away from his in her bristled indignation.

“Oh, spare me,” she snaps. “We both know I can more than handle myself. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going inside. I’m cold, I’m tired, and I came over here to see you. Give me your keys, and finish asserting your masculinity while I’m getting warm.” She holds her hand out again, expectantly, and Poe gives her his keys without thinking. She rolls her eyes, and looks at Ben. “Please refrain from punching each other. Thank you for the ride.” Rey blinks, and something tentatively hopeful crosses her face. “And thank you for talking with me.”

“Anytime, scavenger,” Ben supplies smoothly. Poe’s beyond confused. There’s nothing lecherous or suggestive in the other man’s face. He looks – kind. He looks kind, and sincere, and it’s completely at war with the image Poe has of Ben Solo as Kylo Ren, standing over his hospital bed frowning while he restrains him.

 _But weren't **you**  the villain in that story? _His brain provides unhelpfully. _You had just attacked several people. He was just doing his job._

“Work this out,” Rey tells them both, marching inside. Bee stares after her wistfully, but parks his butt on Poe’s feet loyally. The little dog regards Ben with nothing short of skepticism, and Poe feels a flare of affection for the corgi.

The door swings shut behind Rey, and both men turn to look at each other again.

“If I ever see you grab her like that again,” Ben says warningly.

“Fuck off.” Poe clenches his fists. “I would never hurt her, not in a thousand years. You have no room to talk. You were the one who terrorized her at her job, in that bar.”

“I’m sorry,” Ben says softly. Poe blinks at the honesty behind the phrase. Ben’s brown eyes are warm, and it makes Poe feel wrong-footed. “I already apologized to her for that whole fucking mess, but I’m sorry to you too. I haven’t been in the best place the last few years, and what I said to you that night.” Ben shakes his head, and Poe remembers the cruel things Ben had thrown at him, the things that were no more cruel than the things Poe throws at himself every day. “It’s inexcusable. I shouldn’t have used your past against you. I’m sorry.”

Poe nods, once, sharply. This day is determined to knock him on his fucking ass, clearly. He wants to be inside, in bed, wrapped around Rey, wrapped in blankets. He shivers slightly and remembers that his arms are bare, in public, for the first time in over a year. Poe crosses his arms over his body, trying to hide his forearms. Ben barely looks at them before returning to brusque eye contact. Poe appreciates that his expression doesn’t change after seeing his scars; but then again, Ben had seen them when the wounds were still fresh.

“What were you talking about?” Poe asks, digging his fingernails into his skin.

Ben shrugs. “Our respective traumas.”

Poe snorts, but Ben’s expression still doesn’t waver. “Wait, really?” _How in the world did Ben Solo get Rey to talk about her childhood, the childhood that I don't even know that much about?_

“Yeah. It turns out she and I have some… unexpected things in common.” Ben looks uncomfortable. “And then I told her what led me to work at FO, and what made me quit, and she told me about that whole pile of shit with her foster fathers.”

 _Fathers?_ “You mean Ben Kenobi?” Poe doesn’t miss the wince on this Ben’s face, but it disappears quickly.

“Yeah,” Ben levels a peculiar gaze at him. “Yeah, and that fucking monster she lived with after him, instead of –” Poe stares at him, blankly. “Oh. You don’t know.” Ben quirks his mouth, considering something. “Forget I said anything.”

They stand awkwardly in silence for a minute.

Poe looks down at Bee in the meantime, and what Ben says suddenly rips through him, his tired brain making the connection. “ _He was…a lot different from Ben,_ ” Rey’s soft, sad voice echoes in his memory, her thin hand resting over what he knows to be a large scar on her lower stomach.

He closes his eyes and breathes through his nose. There are scars all over her arms – _burn_ marks. How the fuck had he not noticed, not realized? She had flinched that day in his car when he’d reached for her quickly, too quickly. Her shoulder had even slammed into his car door in her haste to get away from his hand.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck, fuck, fuck. He’d grabbed her so roughly not even ten minutes ago.

“Fuck me,” Poe groans, rubbing his knuckles into his eyes. How did Ben Solo get a part of Rey’s story so easily? What could they possibly have in common?

“Can I ask why you looked set to tear out of here like hell on wheels when we pulled up?” Ben asks, not unkindly.

 _Oh, right._ Poe finds it in himself to get angry again. “Can I ask why Reginald fucking Snoke was in Raleigh today?”

Ben blanches, and that doesn’t make Poe feel any better. “What did you say?” It’s the first time he’s seen the massive man look worried.

“He showed up out of nowhere and cornered me. Told me he wanted me to work for him.” Poe huffs angrily, and Ben shoves his hands in his pocket and stares at him, horrified.

“Christ,” Ben shakes his head. “Don’t do it. The guy’s a literal war criminal.”

“Thanks for the career advice, Solo,” Poe snarks. “But I definitely decided against updating my resume when he threatened the girl I’m dating.”

Ben grabs his arm, tightly, and Poe breathes through his nose, trying to fight back the anxiety. Solo notices the change in his body language and releases him quickly, with a short “Sorry.”

He straightens back up to his full, impressive height. “How does he even know who Rey is?” Ben demands.

“Fuck if I know,” Poe says. This is so fucking weird – he was sure Ben had tipped Snoke off, lured Rey somewhere for his old boss. “I thought you were working for him.”

“No.” Ben is vehement, livid, as he shakes his head emphatically. “No, definitely fucking not. I quit right around when you were discharged. I wouldn’t put someone like Rey on his radar, not for all the money in the world.”

“Well, he knows her name, where she works, who she lives with.” Poe runs his hands through his hair. “He definitely was more than vaguely threatening about it. Said if I didn’t come work for him, he’d – I don’t even know. Recruit her? Hurt her?”

Ben looks at him, jaw locked. “He can’t touch her. He won’t. I’ll take care of it.”

“How are you supposed to take care of it?” Poe asks. He’s bone tired, but he doesn’t want to let this go.

“Just – don’t worry about it. And don’t tell her about it, it’ll only worry her.”

“I’m not going to hide this from her,” Poe argues.

“Why not? You hide enough from her.” Poe recoils like he’s been slapped, and he’s ready to fight him now, promise to Rey be damned, but Ben quickly backtracks. “Fuck, sorry. I swear I wasn’t always this much of an asshole. Just. Rey has a lot she needs to work through, Dameron, a lot that she keeps back. And – I don’t know her that well, but she’ll be more willing to tell you shit if you talk to her, too. Most people are like that.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Poe says drily. He really doesn’t mean it. He doesn’t need relationship advice from Ben fucking Solo.

“She is right – Rey can take care of herself. But that’s no reason to expose her to Reginald Snoke,” Ben pulls his keys out of his pocket and nods at Poe. “And you have no reason to, but please trust me. I’ll handle him. Don’t get involved with it – you’ve uh. You’ve been through enough.” He turns a strange shade of red and then disappears into his car.

Poe stares at Ben’s profile and watches him drive away. He shakes his head and pats Bee on the head. “Let’s go, buddy.”

Bee trots after him, and Poe remembers how tired he is while he climbs the stairs. When he gets to the apartment, the door is already unlocked. He pushes it open and sees Rey leaning against his couch – and was it really only yesterday that they’d kissed on it? It was only yesterday that she’d taken him into her mouth, and the world had promised to be soft again, and he’d been so deliriously happy, caught in her gravitational pull.

Now he’s anxious, and he remembers all the fault lines that formed when he was trapped in a chair and his friends were dying in front of him, and he remembers all the reasons why he’s no good for her.

“I didn’t cheat on you,” Rey says as her opening statement. Her arms are crossed in front of her body defensively. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“I know,” Poe tells her, aghast. “God, sweetheart, I didn’t think that for a second.”

“Good,” Rey nods, not moving from her stiff pose. “Good. I – I was just talking to him and I lost track of time.”

Poe nods, and then takes his phone out. “Wait, let me text Finn. He was really worried about you.”

“Fuck,” Rey groans and buries her face in her hands. Poe smiles at her briefly in case she’s looking at him, and then types out a quick message to Finn that Rey’s alright, that she’s safe, but they’re going to talk for a little bit, so he might not respond to a future text.

“Sunshine,” Poe clears his throat. “I’m sorry for grabbing you like that. I was worried, and I wasn’t thinking.”

“I know,” Rey smiles at him. “Don’t worry, I know. Just please don’t do it again.”

“Never,” he swears. “Can we sit?” Rey nods and they sit next to each other on his couch.

“You’re not wearing long sleeves,” Rey notes quietly.

“Like I said, I was worried,” Poe smiles at her, but he knows there’s no mirth in it. “Didn’t stop to think about covering all this up.” She looks down, and he grits his teeth, waiting for her to say something.

There are starbursts of scar tissue from where they’d shocked him, thick bands of scarring around his forearms from where they’d restrained him, from where he’d thrashed, ripping away the skin. They’re just the beginning of his scars, and he hates them, really hates them. They’re a sign of how he fucked up, of how he failed his unit, of how he lost his friends and his mind all in one go.

Rey doesn’t say anything, and when he forces himself to look down at her, there isn’t an ounce of pity in her eyes.

She smiles at him, and she holds her hands out, hovering over his forearms. He nods, jerkily, and she rests her fingertips against his skin. She strokes from the inside of his elbows, down to his wrists, circling a path around his palms, and then back up again, completing the circuit. Rey does this several times, and Poe’s eyes are threatening to roll back into his head from how fucking good it feels to be touched without hesitation, without clinical focus. Rey touches him just to fucking touch him, and he’s going to fall apart from the softness any second.

Rey says, quietly, looking him in the eyes and not down at his scars, “Mine are from cigarettes.” Poe tenses, and then he forces himself to relax. Ben had told him outside that he needed to be open with Rey, and she’d be open with him. He doesn’t want to hear the rest of this story, but he wants to help her carry its weight, he wants her to release the pressure of it before it builds up inside her. “Well, the ones on my arms. The man who took me after Ben died, he – he used me as an ashtray when I pissed him off. And, I piss people off pretty frequently, so.”

He shakes his head, almost choking on his rage. “No,” he manages to say. “No, that’s not why he did it. He did it because he was a terrible person. I don’t need to know anything else about him to say that, sweetheart. You didn’t deserve it.”

“Neither did you,” Rey says. “It wasn’t your fault either.” And it’s fucking ridiculous, he’s been to hundreds of therapy sessions, but those eight words cut something loose inside him, something tight and unreachable before now, and he sobs without warning, leaning forward so his head rests on Rey’s sharp collarbone. He cries, staining her shirt with his tears, and her hands continue to rub reassuringly over his forearms.

“Is it still okay to touch you?” Rey checks with him after what could be minutes of crying. Poe nods, and Rey’s hands slide up tentatively over his upper arms, and then around his shoulders so she can hug him, slightly awkwardly due to the angle. He leaves his face tucked away in her shirt.

 _My body is not my own,_ he wants to tell her. _I thought I was moving past it, but now someone wants me for what my body can do. And we’re right back to where we started._

The violating presence of Reginald Snoke still crawls down his back, even as he buries his face in her neck so she can’t see the burning in his eyes. Rey can see right through him on the best of days. He doesn’t want to know what she’ll see tonight, not after she saw so clearly what he needed to hear. He isn’t sure he was ready to hear it. He isn’t sure he ever could have been ready for Rey. She’s the only person besides a doctor to touch this much of him in over a year, and he wants more, even as he desperately resists the idea of her seeing the rest of him, of her seeing what he looks like now.

  _I want to tell you the truth._ He thinks as she holds him tightly. _I want you to know why it’s hard for me to be with you the way you want me to. I’m afraid that I can’t do the things you want to do, because I broke a year and a half before I met you._

 _They did things to me that I may never forget._ If he could just show her the roadmap of the rest of his scars, if they could tell the story for him, it might be easier. If they could take over and explain to her how it felt to sit, waiting to die, naked as the day he was born, lost and dazed and breaking from the pain. Maybe she would understand. Maybe she wouldn’t leave him for not giving her what she wants, what she needs.

But they started something new, tonight. It’s a new part of their story, one where they can maybe be more open with each other. Poe wishes with everything he has that it wasn’t so tangled up in Snoke’s dark, lingering presence. He wishes that he hadn’t just sort of promised their former-enemy-turned-potential-ally Ben Solo that he’d keep Rey out of it. But he has a spark of hope, stubborn and adamant in his chest that they’re going to move past this. She’s still touching him, she isn’t repulsed by him, and he can try to be the man he’s supposed to be. And if he’s lucky, he can be the man she wants, the one she deserves. They can share everything, if he’s lucky.

He wants to tell her everything, eventually. He just wishes he knew how.

 

***

Poe gets through Monday, Ben’s promise doing little to dismantle the anxiety that claws at his throat. He keeps thinking he’ll see Snoke around the corner, and he even goes to the Resistance after his physical therapy appointment, under the pretense of needing caffeine. But, he's really there because he needs to see Rey, to confirm she’s safe. He drives her to buy a new phone – she really had smashed her old one to bits somehow, _“I just dropped it, I swear!_ ” – and then he takes her home and kisses her on her front step. Poe loves the normalcy of it, needs the normalcy of it, but he also needs to go and sit with his head between his knees for a few hours.

He was on edge all day, which is probably why he has a series of nightmares on Monday night, each one worse than the last.

Poe wakes up officially at 02:15 and, searching for something to do, he texts Rey a picture of Bee snoozing on the edge of his bed.

She calls him less than three minutes later. “Can’t sleep, Major?” Her voice is tired and adorable over the phone.

“Did I wake you up, Sunshine?” Poe asks, concerned even as he leans back against the wall, eyes closed while he soaks up the sound of her. His heartbeat slows just from the lilt of her words, and he wants to bury himself in her voice.

“No,” she yawns loudly. “Mmm, yes.”

Poe laughs. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

“Don’t apologize, Poe,” Rey says, sounding slightly more awake. “Did you have the dream again?”

If she means “did I, Rey Niima, light of your universe, die over and over again in increasingly terrifying ways,” then yes.

“Yeah.” He gets the single syllable out and swallows hard against the effort. The last dream ended with Snoke smiling over her twisted body, asking him if _this_ was better than a simple job.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” he shakes his head, and he feels a tear start to slip out from his closed eyes. “Not tonight. Can you—can you please talk to me for a little bit? Needed to hear your voice.”

“Of course.” There’s a rustle from her end, and he imagines her sitting up in her bed in her cozy green room, her small plants on the windowsill, a blanket pooled around her lap. Fuck, he wishes he were there with her.

She tells him about her shift at the coffee shop, and she grumbles about the usual pile of grumpy customers in the morning. There’s one regular, a guy in a suit that she cannot get to smile, and he can tell she takes it personally. A door opens and closes on her end – maybe she went to get water. If he were there, he could have gotten it for her, and she could have stayed, warm and cozy, in bed.

Eventually, Rey gets to the story of a girl who had asked for Finn’s number.

“I told her that he was spoken for, and then she asked for _my_ number,” Rey giggles, breathless, and there’s more movement on her end. Poe imagines that she’s sliding down under her covers, phone tucked between her ear and her shoulder while her beautiful eyes drift shut. His own eyes close at the thought. “And I told her I’d have to check with my boyfriend.”

Poe’s heart slams in his chest. He'd called her his girlfriend by accident yesterday when yelling at Ben, and she hadn't brought it up, and he'd been too busy breaking down in her arms to see if she'd minded the label.

Hearing Rey refer to him as her boyfriend makes him think that there might actually be a reason he survived the war. Poe knows, deep into his bones, that he will never, ever, get used to being called Rey’s anything. It’s more than he deserves. “You can give your number to whoever you want, sweetheart.” He smiles at her carefree laugh. God, he wants to hold her.

“I only want you, Poe.” Her voice is shy.

“I only want you too, Sunshine,” he answers shakily.

“Good,” she says. There are several moments of silence, a humming noise over the background of the call, and then she speaks again: “So, tomorrow I have to go to my seminar, and there’s this jackass who tries to mansplain biomathematics to me every fucking time, as if I don’t understand how motherfucking gravitropic set-point angles work.” _Oh yeah, basic knowledge,_ Poe thinks to himself, cheeks hurting from how hard he’s smiling. Fuck, his girlfriend is so much smarter than him. “Seriously, that was part of my _undergraduate_ thesis, and he’s trying to explain to me how he’s mapped offset mechanisms in his shitty little project, and he has the gall to define every other word like I won’t know what it means. And I swear, tomorrow, I’m going to build a _fucking baking soda volcano_ and then hand it to him and I’m gonna tell him to let me know when he’s ready to set up for the middle school science fair because, Jesus Christ, it’s that or murder him!”

“Is there a specific kind of plant that would help you hide the body?” Poe asks, settling into his pillows, still grinning. “You know, like in _Little Shop of Horrors?_ ”

“The little shop of what now?” Rey asks. Something thuds sharply in the background. She probably dropped something because she’s the most endearingly careless person he’s ever met. She’s a literal whirlwind of a human being sometimes.

“You’re a plant scientist, and you haven’t seen _Little Shop of Horrors_?” Poe laughs. “Oh, we are fixing that as soon as possible.”

“How about now?” Rey asks, innocently. Poe sits bolt upright, already thrilled at the proposition.

“Fuck, that’d be great Sunshine.” He forces himself to stay seated, to not jump out of bed. She may have been joking, and he really doesn’t want to bother her. “But aren’t you tired?”

"I mean a little, but I figured I could sleep with you." There’s a light knock at his front door. “Will you come let me in?”

Poe falls out of bed in his rush to get to the door. He goes to tug a sweater on over his undershirt but then stops. Rey’s already seen the scars on his arms, and she hadn’t reacted at all, just touched them like it was any other skin, like she still saw _him_ underneath them.

He takes a gulping breath and throws the door open. Rey’s standing in his doorway, hair disheveled, and her longboard at her hip.

“Sorry,” she says into the phone. “I gotta go, there’s a really hot guy in front of me.” She hangs up laughing, and Poe holds his arms out. She steps into the apartment, and into his arms. Poe jerks slightly when her chilled nose brushes against his neck.

“You’re freezing,” he notes. “Let’s get you warm. And leave that death trap in hallway.” Rey rolls her eyes but tosses her longboard to the side. “Did you at least wear a helmet?”

“If I told you yes, could we skip to cuddling?” Rey smiles at him sweetly, and he decides he’ll lecture her later.

“That depends. Can I kiss you first?” She nods at him, and he leans forward until their lips meet. He takes a few extra seconds to shower the rest of her cold face with kisses, trying to warm her, and Rey burrows into him, freezing hands wrapping around his back.

Soon, they make their way to his bed, and they snuggle under the covers, her hands drifting over his exposed arms, not ever hovering over a scar, just stroking over his skin as if it were whole.

“Thank you for coming over,” Poe says softly. He can’t imagine how anxious she must have been, coming all this way to surprise him, unsure if he'd want to see her. He want nothing more than to reassure her. “I’m really glad you did. Best surprise I've ever gotten.”

Rey blushes self-consciously. “I’m glad you’re glad. You just sounded so… lost. I wanted to see you.”

He tugs her closer and breathes in deeply, reveling in the smell of her hair, the feeling of her nose against his collarbone. “I was lost. But you found me, and it’s better now. Everything’s going to be fine.”

She feels so right in his arms, he can almost believe it.

***

He goes to therapy on Tuesday, and he breezes through the events of the week, leaving every painful thing out. When Dr. Mothma looks at him over her cup of tea and asks if there’s anything new in his life, he manages a smile.

“Nothing to report, doc.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You best believe that's a reference to one of the greatest love songs of all time, Nick Caves "Into My Arms," which is the ~big mood~ of the second half of this chapter
> 
>  
> 
> I tried to put some fluffy stuff in just so I didn't exhaust you with all the angst! 
> 
> ~~~I wonder how Ben's going to help fix this~~~
> 
>  
> 
> (also part of Rey's POV of her/Ben's conversation will come up, in flashbacks, in the future. You can safely assume that they talked about what he said they talked about, as well as their strange family connection.)


	14. Not With Haste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe gets a job; Poe goes to therapy; Rey meets someone she does not like; Poe and Rey become more intimate; Rey has a nightmare about her difficult childhood/adolescence; Rey and Poe share a number of secrets
> 
> (I meant to publish this like five hours ago but then I kept writing and it's almost 19 pages on google docs, and yikes!)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: E  
> Tags: Bisexual Poe; therapy is important; a close encounter with ill-advised comfort sex; pushing one's limits; Rey had a canonically shitty childhood (depictions of child abuse)
> 
> So many big warnings, spoilers included, please if anything in the tags sounds like it would bother you, read through this <3 <3 <3  
> Warning 1: Poe works through an anxious situation, Rey's POV (he tries to get naked, but doesn't all the way). There's some light making out after. 
> 
> Warning 2: BIG warning- there's a fairly long nightmare from Rey's POV (marked by ~~ symbols before and after if you want to skip). Rey's 17 in the memory, and she's physically and verbally abused by Unkar while trying to defend a smaller child. References to the abuse occur after the dream as well, where she outlines what happened to her (broken bones, etc). An object is used to hit her, as well as someone's foot. (Be careful, my friends). 
> 
> Warning 3: From Poe's POV at the end -- Rey tries to initiate sex while upset, and Poe stops the second he realizes something is wrong/she has a small flashback to her past (which is accidentally caused by Poe when they're experiencing a moment of physical intimacy). They talk through it, and they talk about her abuse at length ( at one point, it's implied that Poe thinks she's been sexually abused, which she wasn't), and he talks about losing someone he cared about (former male sexual partner). 
> 
>  
> 
> (Also, mild Disclaimer: Mothma is a therapist and I am not, so I am sorry if it is very unrealistic, she sounds a lot like one of my old, favorite therapists, which is who she's modeled after)

The campus of NC State is windblown on Wednesday after his PT appointment. Poe’s scurrying down the sidewalk towards Rey’s building, hoping to catch her in the greenhouse before she leaves for lunch, when he hears a familiar voice shouting at him.

“Poe Dameron?”

He stops and turns towards the source.

Cassian Andor grins at him, not twenty feet away. He’s wearing a tweed suit, and his silver hair is shorter than the last time he’d seen him, a few months ago at group.

“Dr. Andor!” Poe hurries forward with his hand extended. They shake firmly, and Cassian puts his hands on his hips.

“Coming back for your graduate degree, _vato?”_

“No, sir,” Poe laughs. “I’m here to see my girlfriend.”

Cassian roars delightedly. “Oh, is that so? Back in the saddle, Dameron?”

“Yes, sir.” Poe knows Cassian’s the last person who cares about formalities, but the guy’s too fucking impressive for him to not show deference to. He was an incredibly talented intelligence officer, but he’d seen so much shit, maybe even more than Poe. It had come out in pieces during their veterans’ support meetings, which Cassian helped to lead with his friend Bodhi.

“Is she cute?” Cassian waggles his eyebrows at him. Poe gives him a look, and Cassian waves his hands around. “Now, don’t you tell my wife that I asked that.”

“No, sir, I definitely won’t. Dr. Erso is terrifying.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Cassian looks beyond fond at the idea of his tiny, fierce wife. “But is she? What’s she like?”

“She’s a scientist, works with plants.” Poe smiles. It’s so easy to talk with Cassian, even easier to talk about Rey. “And she’s from Arizona, but somehow ended up here, which is perfect for me, because she’s perfect, and I have no idea why she’d put up with an old man like me.”

“ _Güey,_ ” Cassian says warningly. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. But—any chance your girl’s name is Rey?”

“Rey Niima?” Poe stares at Cassian, confused. “How do you know her?” Cassian teaches military history.

“Her friend took my class two years ago, when he was a freshman,” Cassian smiles and holds his finger up jokingly in Poe’s face. “And your little lady friend marched into my office hours with _his_ exam, asking why I had gotten the name of a plane wrong on a question about the second World War.”

“Oh Jesus,” Poe can’t help but smile. “Yeah, that sounds like her.”

“Naturally, we fought for two hours, and then she offered to buy me a beer so she could keep yelling at me.” Cassian grins at the memory. “And now she pops by every so often to yell at me some more. Jyn loves her.”

“It’s a definite pattern with her,” Poe observes.

“Hey, _vato,_ any chance you got a job yet?” Dr. Andor switches into a more focused tone.

Poe winces. “Ah, no.” He definitely, definitely, does not think about the offer from Snoke.

“Good! I have something that I actually thought you were perfect for, even before I saw you today. How lucky that we bumped into each other. You were an English major, yeah?”

“Double major with Math,” Poe shrugs. He misses college, but mostly he misses the carefree aspect of his time in the military.

“Perfect! The librarian on campus is a good friend of mine, and his assistant wants to retire. Baze said he’s had enough of fetching books for a lifetime. It pays pretty well, and the hours are fairly regular. You’d help the librarian do research.” Cassian smiles at him, unsure suddenly. “If you’re up for it, of course.”

“I am.” Poe’s surprised by how sure he sounds. He wasn’t even sure he was sure until he answered.

“Follow me!” Poe has to jog to catch up with the fit older man. Cassian Andor is pushing 70, and Poe’s fairly certain he could still kick his ass.

They enter the library, and it’s warm and brighter than he would have imagined.

“Chirrut!” Cassian hollers. “I brought you someone!”

An old, wrinkled man wearing a brown jacket emerges from the shelves behind the front desk. A cane taps in front of him as he walks towards them, a pale blue sheen over his eyes.

“This is Poe Dameron, boss,” Cassian declares. “He’s interested in the job. Figured you could tell him about it.” The man regards him and Poe wonders how the world might appear to him. When he speaks, his voice is soft, but in the way that makes a person want to listen.

“The desert was not kind to you, my son. How long have you been back, Poe Dameron?” Chirrut asks him, translucent eyes gazing directly at him.

Poe shuffles his feet and rubs his neck. “Uh, Cassian didn’t tell you?”

“I didn’t tell him anything about you, boss,” Dr. Andor informs him. He grins at Poe before turning to leave. “Chirrut sees everything. It’s creepy as shit. Get used to it.”

Chirrut smiles at Cassian’s back and then hefts his cane in his hand.

“How did you know I’d returned from war, sir?” Poe asks, genuinely curious. There’s always the chance that he’d read the news like the majority of other people in this country, but he still wants to know.

“Because, Poe Dameron,” Chirrut thumps his cane against the ground, face solemn as it turns to catch a ray of sunlight coming through the open window. “You haven’t really come back. Not yet.”

Poe doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything.

“A decade as a soldier, and now you are on your way to discover who you truly are.” Chirrut smiles at him, stands, and begins to walk towards the stacks. “So, let us begin.”

***

Poe sits across from Mothma a week and a half after his birthday, and smiles, genuinely smiles at his therapist when he tells her he got a job.

“That’s wonderful, Poe,” Mothma encourages him. “Something you enjoy?”

“Yes ma’am,” he answers, enthused. “Working with books, if you can believe it.”

“I can believe it,” she laughs, and it’s a rare sound. Poe sits back against the couch cushions, pleased as punch for having dragged the sound out of the older woman. “Are you still writing?”

“Yes.” Poe shifts around and digs through his backpack. He fishes out a journal and puts it on his lap. “Songs, mostly. But sometimes I write stories. Stupid shit, really, about distant planets and adventures in the stars.” He blushes and doesn’t look up.

“Don’t call it stupid, Poe. That’s an order.” Mothma tells him. “You’ve been through so much, and a creative outlet can only help you while you recover.”

Poe grins at her briefly, and then goes back to playing with the notebook in his lap, running his calloused thumb through the pages.

“I’m proud of you, Poe,” Dr. Mothma says softly. He looks up at that, all the way, and is surprised by the fond look on her face. “It shouldn’t change how you feel either way, and it might not be my place to say it. But, I’m proud of you. You’ve come very far.”

“Not as far as I want,” Poe grips his journal and bites his tongue.

“Is that a self-defeating statement, or a request for help?”

“Help,” Poe clears his throat and looks at her. “I need help. I, uh, I showed Rey some of my scars last week by accident. And she—”

“How did she respond, Poe?” Mothma prompts after he stops talking.

“She didn’t make a big deal out of it,” Poe shrugs. “She didn’t do something weird like, fuss? over them. She just looked at them like they were any other part of my body, and she didn’t ask about where they were from.” And then she’d opened up to him, slightly, and her own vulnerability had cracked something open inside of him, something fragile and raw and desperate to be shared and seen.

“And now?” Mothma’s still waiting for him to get to the point.

“I – I want to share everything with her.” Mothma knows about his hang-ups, knows why he doesn’t think he can do this, and he’s so glad for it. He just needs to say what he wants. That’s easy enough. “I want to do everything with her, to really just be myself and be open and free and – and, God this is so fucking stupid, but I just want to be Poe, like I was before, and I don’t know how to just…I used to be so good at this.” Poe groans in exasperation and thumps his head on the back of the couch.

“Poe Dameron,” Mothma scolds. If he’d had a middle name, he’s sure she would have used it. _Mom used to say my name like that._ “We’ve talked about this before, so I know you know what I’m about to say. The line between ‘Poe before’ and ‘Poe now’ is a line you’ve created in your head. Every person grows and changes in their life. And I’m not saying that something horrifying didn’t happen to you to make you change, but the ‘Poe now’, the one I know, and the one Rey knows, is a good man. And he’s a man who will find out what he likes, and what works for him, in the right time.”

“Okay,” Poe nods. “Okay.” He doesn’t really agree with her, but he wants to. “So, how do I – how can I move things along?”

“That will be up to you and her,” Mothma says kindly. “Tell her you’re struggling with it, and work with her to figure out how far you can go before it’s too much. Take your time, let her know beforehand that it might not end well, and be ready to be very vulnerable. Take it in small steps; maybe leave certain articles of clothing on. Explore your limits somewhere safe, and if anything you’ve told me about this woman is true, she’ll be there to support you. And if she isn’t, if she doesn’t support you, then you should know that it isn’t because of you.”

Poe nods. He doesn’t logically think Rey would reject him, not at this point, but he’s still a little anxious about it. “And what if I freak out and try to hurt her?”

“Poe,” Mothma’s eyes are compassionate, but her jaw is set. It’s a combination she pulls off all too well. “You haven’t had an outburst like that since you first woke up. You are not a violent person. I do not think you are a violent person. And I doubt Rey thinks you are a violent person. Establish ground rules with her, and tell her what to expect if it goes poorly and you have a flashback or an anxiety attack. And if you think it isn’t going to work, don’t push it.”

The hour ends shortly after that, and Poe manages to get into his car. Bee looks at him reproachfully from the passenger side when he slams his door shut.

“Sorry, buddy,” he pats his dog on the head. “God, I’m just. I’m just fucked, you know?”

Bee knows.

***

Rey walks towards the bike rack when a man steps in front of her. His face is scarred, and he looks at her in a way that makes her spine stiffen immediately.

“Excuse me,” she bites out, grabbing the straps of her backpack, ready to swing it off her shoulders and use it as a weapon as she needs to. _Why don’t I carry mace anymore?_ She wonders as she tries to step around the man.

“Are you Rey Niima, by any chance?” The man’s voice makes her frown. It sounds smooth, silky, but there’s an undercurrent there.

“Yes. How do you --”

“Oh, your boyfriend and I go way back.” The man waves a hand dismissively. “He might be working for me, soon, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

Rey squints at him in confusion. “Poe works at the library. Do you?” She doesn’t mention that Poe’s only been working there for five days. This man doesn’t seem like he’d use any information about anyone the right way.

“No, I do not work at the library. But that’s cute of you to think that.” It definitely isn’t. Rey fights the urge to punch him in the throat. Her juvenile record is sealed, so she doesn’t think it would count as a second offense, but she doesn’t want to take that chance.

“So he hasn’t told you about his opportunity? That’s a shame. He thinks so highly of you, he shouldn’t keep you in the dark.”

“Keep me in the dark about what?” Rey snaps.

“Well, you know how much he loves to fly.”

“I really don’t.” Rey crosses her arms across her chest and looks at him coolly. “He’s never really talked about flying, so he can’t love it that much. Now, if you excuse me, I need to leave. Mostly because I really don’t care about this conversation.”

“Oh, but you do,” Snoke says gleefully. “I’m just here for a friendly chat. I feel that you, if anyone, could encourage him to reconsider my offer.”

“I doubt that.” Rey starts to walk towards her bike, but a cold, withered hand grabs her by the sleeve. Rey wrenches her elbow away from him, and prepares to take this awful old man down. Weirdly enough, he hands her a device, a video already open on its screen.

“There’s so much about him that you don’t know. Humor me,” Snoke smiles. “Watch this, Ms. Niima.”

Rey looks down at the tablet, already frowning. Snoke’s taloned finger comes to tap the play button when she doesn’t try to start the video.

It’s a video of a large airplane hangar, and the date at the bottom corner says that it’s from May 2014.

The camera zooms in on a fit young man wearing a green Air Force flight suit. He stands next to a sleek airplane that looks built for speed, obviously top of the line engineering. His hair is cut short, and there isn’t a hint of stubble at his jaw. She recognizes him despite how different he looks. Rey’s stomach tightens when he turns around to smile at the camera. This is a video of Poe Dameron, 27 years old, devastatingly handsome, and clearly in his element.

“And here’s Captain Poe Dameron, the top ranked pilot in the country,” the unseen narrator proclaims. “So Captain, what are you going to do today?”

There isn’t a single line of stress in his face when he laughs. He looks younger, far younger than he should, his eyes bright and unshadowed, and he winks at the camera flirtatiously while he pats the side of the plane.

“Well, I’ll take this girl up in the air, do a few tricks, show the new recruits how it’s done,” Poe lists. “And then, maybe, I’ll take you to dinner, gorgeous?”

“Captain,” the commanding officer says warningly. “Mind your manners.”

“Yeah, yeah, my apologies.” Poe grins at the person behind the camera. “Dinner _and_ breakfast, then?”

“Dameron!”

Poe howls in mirth, but still finds time to send a charming smile at the narrator when he says to his XO, “Don’t worry, Colonel, I’ll take you out too, if you want.”

“Get your ass in the air, Captain.”

Poe salutes lazily and turns towards the waiting airplane. He stretches in a very showy way, clearly sticking his ass out on purpose while he loosens his back.

“Just keep your eyes on me, ladies and gentleman,” Poe calls as he climbs into the cockpit. He holds his arms out, gesturing broadly. “If you can, that is. You’ve never seen anything like this.”

And it’s clear none of them have. Even the Colonel, when the camera pans out to catch his reaction, looks begrudgingly impressed.

In the present, Rey stares at the video. The plane cuts through the air in a way she wasn’t aware was physically possible. It’s – it’s art, really, the way Poe flew. There’s a complicated looping sequence, and then Poe’s plane tilts back and shoots off into the distance at an unbelievable speed.

The video cuts out, and one immediately queues up behind it. It’s a -- it’s another video of Poe, but he looks sick, older, tired. He looks _broken,_ and he’s talking to the camera from a hospital bed, eyes staring forward not looking at anything as he says. “My name is Poe Dameron, and I fought for the United States military for ten years. Today I want to --”

Rey shuts the tablet off and shoves it at Snoke. “Fuck you,” she hisses. “Fuck you. I don’t want to watch that.”

“If you say so, Rey.” Snoke smiles as he pockets the device. “But you can see how much happier he was when he was just a pilot. And that’s all I want to do; I want to help him be a pilot again. Now, be a good girl, and pass that along to Poe. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled we met.”

Snoke walks away, and Rey weighs the pros and cons of homicide in her mind before yanking her bike out and heading home.

She decides on the way that there is no way in hell she’s telling Poe _anything_ about this Snoke person. There’s a reason Poe hasn’t brought him up, and she’ll be damned if she drags Poe back into the middle of whatever the fuck that was.

***

Poe makes them dinner that night at his place, and he looks beyond pleased when Rey has three helpings. She even offers to lick the plate, only half-joking, before he snatches it away to scrub in the sink.

“You’re sweet to me,” Rey comments, watching the way his muscles move under his shirt while he cleans the kitchen.

“It’s easy to be sweet to you,” Poe smiles shyly at her while he scrapes leftovers into a tupperware. “Here, lunch for you for tomorrow.”

“Way too sweet to me,” Rey confirms. She stands from the table and pats her full belly before walking across the kitchen and draping herself around Poe as he washes dishes.

Rey presses her lips into his shoulder and giggles at the sharp noise he makes, still audible over the running water. “Can I do something sweet for you?” She purrs into his ear, and Poe jolts, dropping the plate he was holding into soapy water. He spins around, leaning against the counter, and Rey smiles triumphantly.

“I can wash these later,” he declares.

“I might even help,” Rey says, without a single intention of helping. She doesn’t do too well around breakable things.

“I might kiss you now,” Poe informs her. Rey tilts her head up and consents before his lips are on hers. Poe’s hands press at her hips, and they walk backwards, away from the kitchen. Poe guides her blindly, and Rey gasps for air when he pushes her against his bedroom door.

“Poe,” she whispers when his lips find her neck and begin to trace a path down. “Yes, like that, I like that.”

“Open the door,” Poe instructs her, and Rey fills a thrill go through her. She promised him something sweet, and she very much hopes they’ll have a repeat of former situations, the ones that have caused her to daydream and drop something at work more than once, caught up in the memory of his hands soft on her body while his golden voice orders her to do something that she’s all too happy to do.

“Yes sir,” she giggles, and Poe smiles at her.

“Not tonight,” he says softly. Rey quirks an eyebrow at him but nods all the same. She turns to open his door, and they walk through together, Poe at her back, hands at her hips while he kisses her ear, jaw, neck. Rey pivots and plops down on the bed excitedly. She smiles up at Poe.

“So what are we doing?” She asks happily.

“I uh -” Poe clears his throat. “I want to try something.”

“Okay!” Rey beams at him hard enough to make her cheeks hurt. “I like trying things with you.”

“No, uh,” Poe’s face is bright red. “I want to do something, to try something, and it might not work.”

“That’s fine,” Rey tells him. “Really, that’s fine.”

“Okay,” Poe seems to fortify himself internally. “I want to take my clothes off. But I might not -- not all the way? I just want to try. And this could end really badly, so I’ll only do it if you want to, too.” His words are rushed and Rey struggles to pay attention after the phrase ‘take my clothes off.’ She wants to see Poe naked, that’s for damn sure, but she also understands that it’s hard for him. Rey remembers how tense he’d been last week when she’d seen his forearms, and she can only imagine he’s hiding worse scars under his clothing.

She nods enthusiastically. “Definitely. Whatever you need to do. I’ll sit here and wait.”

Poe smiles at her, laugh lines crinkling at the corner of his eyes. “So, I guess I’ll start then.” He releases his breath all the way, and then unbuttons his jeans.

Rey’s mouth drops open. She has no idea if this is supposed to be sensual or not, but seeing Poe’s fingers work at the top of his pants -- yeah, she approves of the image. Rey sits on her suddenly clammy hands and forces herself not to say anything, but her thighs squirm all the same, trying to create friction where she needs it.

“Well that’s flattering,” Poe teases her. Rey smiles at him, and she’s sure she looks a mess, but Poe looks nervous underneath his flirty expression, and it calms her down immediately.

“Sorry,” she whispers. “This isn’t about me, sorry.” She means it.

“No, Sunshine,” Poe says. “I want to do this for you, for us. I’ll just,” he shoves his pants down and steps out of them unceremoniously. Rey keeps her eyes on his face until he says, “You can look.”

His legs are covered in similar scars to his arms, but nothing surprising. Rey appreciates the curve of his calf, the dark hair that covers the bottom half of his legs. She very much appreciates the thick muscles of his thighs, muscle that she’s only ever felt under fabric before.

Rey’s eyes travel the length of his legs once and then she returns her gaze to Poe’s face. She smiles softly at him, and says, “Are you still okay, my love?”

Poe’s eyes drift shut, and Rey wants to bite her tongue in half. Of course she’s thought that she could be in love with Poe before -not that she’s even sure she’s in a position to know what love is - but now is really not the time to dump her emotions on him. There’s no way he’d even return them, not when they haven’t even been together for three months.

Luckily, Poe doesn’t say anything else, just lets his trembling hands undo his buttons. Rey considers offering to do it for him, but this seems to be something he needs to do himself. He shrugs out of the button down, and he’s left standing in his boxers and undershirt. She can see how his body fits together, the flow of strong, well-developed muscle as it runs the length of his body, the golden tone of his unbroken skin blending into the scars that periodically interrupt it.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Rey says unthinkingly. “Oh fuck, sorry.” She blushes hard enough that she’s sure he can feel it from five feet away.

“I don’t -” Poe swallows. “I don’t agree with you, but thank you. Also, I don’t think I can do much more than this tonight.”

“You did so well,” Rey tells him. She really means it. “Poe, darling, you're doing so well.”

There are tears in his eyes when he comes to sit next to her on the bed, and Rey holds out her hand. He takes it, and places it on his heart. She can feel the organ pounding furiously in his chest, and she frowns.

“I’m so sorry. Did I make you anxious?”

“No,” he licks his lips and laughs. “No, you make me nervous. You always make me nervous though. In a good way.”

“Oh.” Rey doesn’t have anything to say to that, except the truth. “You make me nervous sometimes, too. I’m not used to feeling this much about people.” He flushes, and his heart beats somehow harder under her hand. 

They maneuver themselves until they’re lying down, and they trade a few lazy kisses on the way. Poe feels even warmer than usual, and Rey relishes the feeling of his bare shins when she runs her feet up and down them.

“Cold,” Poe laughs.

“Always,” Rey grins, pushing her feet in between his legs. “I’m always cold.”

“I’ll keep you warm.” Poe says it so seriously he might as well be swearing on a Bible. “Spend the night?” He asks hopefully.

Rey smiles at him before answering. “Yes, but I have the morning shift, so don’t be sad when you wake up and I’m gone.”

Poe puts a hand over his chest, pretending to be horrified. “Why, Miss Niima,” and Rey doesn’t let her expression waver, not even when she remembers Snoke’s voice saying the same title, “I am wounded that you would bed an honest soldier and then leave him lonesome before the dawn.”

“I’m a regular harlot,” Rey confirms drily. “Now, speaking of bed, I’m going to turn around so I can sleep. Please apologize to this ‘honest soldier’ that I won’t be around to listen to a lecture on my shameful ways.” She wiggles to lie on her other side, yanks a pillow into an optimal position, and closes her eyes.

There are several beats of silence, and then Rey says, eyes still closed, “Could you please tell the honest soldier to stop staring at my ass so we can both fall asleep?”

Poe’s warm, familiar presence is immediately at her back. “Guilty,” he laughs, kissing her under her ear. Rey sighs and shifts her hips backwards until they’re aligned with his. She smirks, feeling him hard against her. “But can you blame me?”

“No,” Rey turns back around, sighing heavily. “But can you blame me for wanting to kiss you?” Poe’s answering smile is electrifying, and they find a way to put off their bedtime for another hour, in a number of interesting ways.

Rey falls asleep happy and satisfied, wearing a pair of borrowed pajama pants, her own lying forgotten somewhere on Poe’s floor.

The dream takes a while to form, but it does a good job in changing how she felt before.

~~

There’s the familiar sound of clanging metal and the whir of a distant power drill.

_Did she fall asleep in the garage? That can’t be right._

Rey opens her eyes in time to see Joey drop a large part into the hood of the car. The resounding crack tells her that something is broken, big time.

“I’m sorry!” He squeaks, terrified. “Oh, no. No, no, no.” His small hands immediately go towards the engine, trembling, but Rey jogs forward and pushes him away gently.

“No, Joey, it’s okay.” Rey soothes him. “I’ll fix it, no one will know.’ She smiles at him encouragingly. Joey’s lived with them for a year now, and she likes him, a lot. He’s still sweet somehow, and she wants him to stay that way. Joey is almost eleven now, and he’s doing so well in school. Joey is good in a way that Rey no longer is, and she wants him to smile more.

“Here,” Rey turns to grab a bottle of water. “Let’s just-”

“What the fuck is going on in here?” Unkar Plutt stumbles into the garage, and Joey whimpers.

“Nothing,” Rey answers, at the same time Joey sobs, “It’s broken.”

“It’s what now?” Plutt towers over the small boy and grabs his arm. He peers into the hood of the car and growls. “What the fuck did you do, boy?” He releases Joey and he trips backwards, shaking visibly. Rey knows what she needs to do.

“I did it,” Rey steps in, in front of Joey’s trembling body. “I broke it.”

“What was that?” His bloodshot eyes narrow at her in suspicion.

“I broke it. My hand slipped, it was covered in grease, and I dropped the part. It was my fault.”

“You worthless piece of shit.” Plutt’s been drinking, it couldn’t be more obvious. Rey waves a hand behind her back, trying to indicate to Joey that now is the time to run, while Plutt’s distracted. The sound of swiftly retreating footsteps tells her that her message was received. “How many of these repairs have you done? And you still fucked it up?”

“I don’t know,” Rey breathes, angrily. She’s so done with this, even as her brain screams at her to retreat. “Let’s check my paystub and find out. Oh, wait, I forgot. I’m your best mechanic and you still don’t pay me.”

“I feed you, you ungrateful rat,” Plutt grabs her collar and wrenches her forward. Rey refuses to flinch, if only because she knew this was coming when she stepped forward. If it means Joey’s spared today, she’s fine with whatever happens next.

“You starve us, more like,” Rey throws back in his face. It was a mistake, and she can’t even care. This is what she deserves. This is what she’s used to.

There’s a strange echo through the scene, a memory of a man’s hand soft on her body, a sweetly roughened voice telling her that she’s precious, that she’s wanted, that she’ll never be alone again, but it dies away quickly when Plutt shoves her hard towards the workbench.

“Pick.” He snarls. Rey doesn’t even need to ask what he means. She grabs the biggest wrench she can find, because Christ, she doesn’t even fucking care. Rey turns around, holding it out with her chin held high. “You know what to do.” Plutt snatches the tool from her hand.

Rey puts her hands on the workbench and turns around. She grips the wood tightly and grits her teeth. She won’t scream. She refuses to scream. She isn’t a scared little girl anymore.

At least, that’s what she tells herself when the first blow lands. Rey chokes on the sound of pain that threatens to betray her.

 _Cracked rib,_ the analytical part of her brain notes. _He could puncture a lung, this time._

She counts eight blows before her knees buckle. “Oh no, princess. You’re not going anywhere.” Plutt hauls her back upright, and she leans on her elbows for the last two strikes. Rey collapses to the ground, and heaves for breath. He isn’t done, of course. He kicks her in the stomach, and darkness swarms at the corner of her vision. Plutt kicks her again, and she’s thrown sideways, and the light suddenly changes.

She isn’t in the garage anymore, she’s bleeding in the desert, and she swears that in the shifting mirage of the desert sand, she can see Ben Kenobi’s grave. The earth rises up to swallow her back down; there will be no green things for Rey Niima in her final resting place, only coarse, drowning grains of sand that eat away at her, filling her mouth and her nose, packing into the wounds left by Unkar in his rage.

Suddenly a figure stands above her. A man. She wants to ask for his help, but she can’t remember the words.

The man starts to sing, and it’s the most beautiful sound she’s ever heard; she knows that voice. Rey forces herself to squint against the deadly, uncaring sun, and the man’s face swims into focus.

It’s Poe. He wears a dark green flight suit, medals pinned to his broad chest, and he’s bent over her broken body, regarding her curiously. Rey raises a hand, and thinks, _don’t leave me here to die._

He straightens up and asks, seemingly to himself, “Where’d did you go, Sunshine?” Shaking his head, Poe turns and walks away over the dunes, singing the song he’d written for her. “ _Fare thee well, my honey, fare thee well.”_

The sand blows over her eyes, and his retreating back is the last thing she sees.

~~

**

Poe wakes up when Rey does. He’s a light sleeper these days, and her sudden shift causes him to pull out of a strange dream, one where he and Finn were flying a spaceship together and laughing even though they were inches away from death. He has half a mind to grab his journal and write the idea down, when he sees that Rey is staring at him, petrified.

“Rey?” He asks, blinking away the sleep. “You okay?”

Rey looks at him, wild-eyed, and her hand comes to brush against his cheek lightly. Poe leans into it, eyes closed in bliss, and he groans happily when her fingers tangle in his unkempt curls.

“You’re here?” She whispers. “You’re really here?”

“Of course I’m here,” Poe laughs, and catches her hand. He kisses her knuckles and then her palm, and even lightly nibbles at the thin skin of her wrist. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

“You’re still here,” Rey repeats, dazed, and Poe pulls her hand into his chest, frowning now.

“Rey, sweetheart, I’m here,” he shifts towards her until their knees bump together, and he rubs his nose against hers. “Did you have a dream that I went somewhere?”

Rey nods, and there are tears in her eyes. “Don’t leave me,” she begs him. It’s an easy promise for him to make, really.

He noses her jawline, and swears, “Never,” into her skin. He kisses her where he’d left his promise. Poe props himself up on his elbow and looks at her, his eyes burning. Rey looks back up at him, a world of sadness and fearful hope clashing in her eyes, and he doesn’t let himself look away. God, he could look at her the rest of his life. “I’ll never leave you, not until you send me away.”

It feels like the ring’s burning against his chest when her hand comes up to his shoulder, and she pulls him down gently. He twists so he can cover her completely, their hips aligning naturally, and she tugs at his shirt, trying to get him closer. Poe can’t deny her anything, even when the voice, quieter than normal, whispers, _you can’t do this with her.  You break everything you touch._

“Will you kiss me?” She asks against his mouth, and he’s already on her by the time the sentence ends. He can do this, he tells himself. He can definitely do this. She’s Rey, and he’s Poe, and this couldn’t be further from his nightmares. There’s nothing that he wants more than to be inside of her, to be joined to her. She’s so beautiful in the moonlight, which is part of the reason why he can’t think straight, and he isn’t even sure that he’s awake, but fuck, she’s perfect, which means this is perfect. He needs to be inside her.

“Rey,” he groans into her neck when they break away. “Rey, do you want to –”

“Fuck me,” she whispers, tugging on his hair. Poe surrenders and comes back up to her lips to kiss her again. “Please, I just want you to—”

There’s a flurry of movement where Rey kicks the blanket off their lower halves and she shimmies out of her pajamas. She’s naked quickly, faster than Poe can do anything about, and his heart skips a beat. This is going fast, so fast, doesn’t she want to slow down, so they can enjoy it? Is she worried he’ll pull away again?”

He kneels, somehow pulling himself away from her, and he opens his mouth to reassure her that he isn’t going anywhere when her finger traces the waistband of his skivvies. “Can I touch you?” She asks, and her eyes are bright, too bright, but Poe’s caught in the moment and nods helplessly.

“Yeah, yeah of course you can,” Poe cuts himself off with a low moan when her hand slips into his boxers to grasp him. “Rey, baby, how do you want to do this?”

“I don’t care,” Rey gestures for him to come down. “I just need you as close as possible.” He obliges, how could he not, and he drags his mouth down her neck. Her hand tightens around him and he thrusts forward, uncontrollably. She tilts her hips up in response, hands scrabbling at his chest, and he groans as the head of his cock bumps into her bare skin.

“Sweetheart, slow down,” he laughs, breathless. He takes hold of one of her hands and pushes it back into the mattress. “You’re not going anywhere.” Poe ducks down to kiss her collarbone.

He’s about to say, “and neither am I,” but before he can, he realizes that Rey has frozen underneath him, her hand stilling. Poe pulls back, quickly, to look at her, and her hand slides limply out of his boxers and rests on her stomach, almost protectively. “Rey?”

She’s staring over his shoulder, eyes wide and lost. He knows the look automatically: he’s seen it overseas on the faces of his friends, he’s seen it on his father, and he’s seen it in the mirror. Rey isn’t here, not all the way.

Poe rolls off her immediately, and hovers his hands over her body anxiously, not sure if touch will ground her or not. “Bee,” he calls, “Bee, come here.” The dog’s up on the bed in a second – and the part of Poe’s brain that never left high school thinks _God, my dog almost just watched us fuck,_ and he tells his brain that now really isn’t the time – and the corgi sniffs at Rey and then licks her hand, burying his nose into her palm.

Rey sobs after a few seconds, her hand flying to cover her mouth. She rolls into a fetal position, curling her arm around herself. Bee moves with her, huffing as he tries to fit into the space between her stomach and knees.

She’s shaking, hard, and Poe swears and grabs the blanket, pulling it over her body. “Sweetheart, are you okay?” He asks, and then curses himself. Obviously she’s not okay. “Did I push you too hard?” _Maybe she didn’t want to do that,_ he thinks. _Oh God, what if she only did that because she thought I wanted to?_

“No,” she sobs. “No, this isn’t your fault.”

“Would – would me touching you help?” He asks, agonized and hopeless. He doesn’t know what to do.

“You can,” Rey says. “Please.”

He lies down behind her and tries to wrap himself around her in a way that’s comforting but not confining. He faces the fact that has no idea how to help her, for all his experience in being where she is right now. He kisses the back of her shoulder, and runs his hands up and down her covered side, making soft noises while her sobs start to diminish.

“I’m sorry.” Rey chokes out. “I’m sorry, we can – we can finish if you want.” She wipes her nose with the back of her hand, and turns around so she’s facing him, her arms still wrapped around her middle.

“ _What?_ ” Poe slowly reaches out and cups her jaw. “Rey, no, we’re definitely not going to have sex.” She winces, and tears start to form in her eyes again, and he corrects himself. “No, no, I didn’t mean it like that, and I didn’t mean we’ll never have sex, just – sweetheart, what happened? Please, tell me, I don’t ever want to make you feel like that again.”

Rey takes a shuddering breath. “That was something my foster father said to me.” And his stomach sinks, because he knows she doesn’t mean Ben Kenobi. “Unkar Plutt,” she spits the name out with her eyes clenched shut, and even frozen as he is by her devastation, he still catalogues the name, the name of a man he knows he wants to see dead.

“What did he say to you?” Poe wants to know the exact phrase. He doesn’t want to make her relive it, and he needs to know what to never say again.

“He told me I 'wasn’t going anywhere' the day he – I –” Rey lurches forward, and Poe catches her and cradles her close to his chest.

“You don’t have to tell me,” he whispers. “You really don’t.” There’s so much that could be interpreted from what she’s just said, and he doesn’t want to explore any of those dark avenues if she doesn’t want to.

“It wasn’t – not like that.” Rey shakes her head and keeps talking, wetly, into his shirt. “He used to hit me. Whenever I fucked up. And one time it was really bad, and he just kept hitting me, with a wrench,” Poe forces himself not to tighten his grip on her in his sudden, dark, endless rage, “and then he switched to kicking me.” Rey sighs and pushes away. She sits up and Poe follows her. She’s the sun, he’s her moon. When she moves, he moves. It’s that simple.

Poe holds his hand out, and heaves a sigh of relief when she takes it. “I collapsed after a while and that’s when he said I wasn’t going anywhere. He kept hitting me and hitting me, and he broke my ribs and fractured my collarbone. It was awful, and the only reason he stopped is because my foster brother called the cops. He went to jail, and I got away from him.” Poe squeezes her hand. How the fuck has she gone through all that and survived to become a vibrant, loving person? She’s miraculous, and he swears on every star in the galaxy that she’ll never be made to feel like that again, not while he has breath in his body.

“I uh—I still dream about it sometimes, and I did today. I don’t even know why they happen. It was just a little fresh is all, that’s why I reacted like that. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, Rey,” Poe tugs on her hand, and she tilts forward. He kisses her forehead and whispers. “You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.” She laughs shakily, and he kisses her again, and then kisses the tracks left by her drying tears.

“I’m not. I’m nothing, a nobody.” She whispers. “And one day you’re going to figure that out and leave me.”

He smooths his thumbs over her cheeks and prays that she’ll look at him. When she does, her eyes red-rimmed and exhausted, Poe says, “Sunshine, don’t you know? You’re everything.”

It’s easy then, for them both to lean in and tangle together again. His hands end up in her hair, and her hands curl in his lap. Poe kisses her over and over again, and tries to press how he feels about her into her sweet, lovely mouth.

He remembers what she’d said after they’d woken up. “Did you – did you do all that, did you offer to have sex with me, because you were afraid I’d leave you?” Poe asks, scared of the answer.

“No,” Rey answers automatically. “I mean, I want you to be as close as possible, and I don’t want you to leave. But I – I wouldn’t want to trap you like that.” She swallows and shakes her head, eyes closed. “Sorry, I’m probably not making any sense. Head’s a little fuzzy.”

He knows the feeling. Poe lies back down and holds his arms open, and Rey settles into his embrace, so they’re facing each other.

“I do want us to have sex,” she whispers. “And I’m sorry if we’re taking this too slow for you. But I’m glad it didn’t happen just now. I’m still .. I’m still halfway there, halfway here, if that makes sense.”

“It really does,” Poe says. “It does make sense. But please don’t apologize to me for us taking things slow. I never want to pressure you into anything, Sunshine, and I’ll wait forever if I need to. But, sweetheart. I haven’t been fully honest with you.”

“What?” Rey looks at him curiously. It’s a sign of her maturity that she doesn’t seem to jump to any conclusions after his confession of dishonesty.

“We haven’t had sex, and it’s not only because you’ve never had sex and I’m worried to move things along and rush you.” Poe clears his throat. “We haven’t had sex because of _me._ You know I haven’t been with anyone since I got back, and I’m sure you’ve assumed a lot of that is how I feel about my body.” He'd demonstrated that this evening, even, when he’d stripped down as much as he could bear in front of her. “But it’s also because – fuck.” Poe clenches his eyes shut, unsure if he should reveal this to her. It’s 02:00 and these conversations always seem to be more natural this late at night, but he has a feeling he might regret this, they might regret their dual vulnerability in eight or so hours.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Rey assures him. Her small hands come to wrap around his, and she leans down to kiss his knuckles.

“No, I should.” Poe smiles at her warily before he tells her the full truth. “Part of it _is_ because I’m a vain motherfucker, and I hate that I don’t look the same anymore. But it’s also because the last person I had sex with… he died, Rey. He died ten feet away from me. He died the day we were captured, and we’d only just had sex, and then he was dead, and he was the last person I was inside of, and I see him, I see him all the time in my dreams, and he died so horribly.” Poe wipes a tear from his eye angrily.

“What was his name?” Rey’s voice betrays no emotion, and he can’t bring himself to look at her.

“Muran,” He supplies, and he runs a thumb over Rey’s knuckles. “His name was Anthony Muran.”

“What was he like?” He chances a glimpse of her face, and she’s looking at him calmly, her own tears not quite dried, but her eyes are kind, soft, accepting.

“He was wonderful,” Poe laughs sadly. “He was brilliant, and funny, and a damn good pilot.”

“Muran.” Rey says the name thoughtfully. “I’m so sorry you lost him, Poe.” And she means it, it’s agony to hear how much she means it. “Were… were you in love?”

Poe shakes his head. “No. No, we were only together a couple times before we...before he... But I think we could have been, if we’d had more time.” He squeezes his eyes shut in shame. How can he talk about his dead lover, the one who’s inspired eons of regret in his heart – what if he’d helped fly the plane instead of letting Muran take the responsibility? – when the woman he loves, _and of course he loves her, what a time to realize that, Dameron_ , holds his hand and listens to all the reasons why he can’t be what she needs.

“I don’t know if it helps or not,” Rey says softly, and it pulls him right back out of his slippery descent into self-loathing, “But I’m sure if he knew you, and if he was as smart as you say he was, he was in love with you.”

Poe stares at her wonderingly, and Rey drags her large, luminous eyes to meet his. She smiles so sweetly it might just shatter his heart the rest of the way.

He doesn’t push her to explain what she means, and he bites his tongue against the three words suddenly threatening to pour out of him. Rey burrows in and tucks her face into his chest, settling in to fall back asleep because she’s clearly exhausted from the last half hour. Poe tries not to read too much into it when her pert little nose ends up over his heart, an inch away from the ring his mother left him.

 _We have time,_ he tells himself. _That’s why this is different. Rey and I are going to have time to do everything we want to do._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear there is so much fluff in the next chapter, I am sorry for the pile of angst.


	15. Thanksgiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe wakes up and reflects on the previous night's conversation; Poe invites the crew over for Thanksgiving; Thanksgiving at the Dameron house; post-Thanksgiving at the Rogue One house; intense conversations with the Rogue One crew and Poe/Rey; Jyn has advice for Rey; Poe asks his dad's advice; Ben has a conversation with an old colleague.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Brief Ben POV at the end, btw)  
> Rating: Mature (References to near-death experiences, references to torture, references to sexual harassment of a minor, references to abuse)
> 
> Warnings: The Post-Thanksgiving celebration at Jyn/Cassian's place involves a tradition of our good friends from Rogue One (so #spoilers for RO), where they list their brushes with death and drink to them.  
> Serious warnings for the conversation: Poe references his torture (water boarding), Bodhi references his torture (canon), multiple descriptions of violent events; Rey details an encounter she had at 16 where she was stabbed and almost died, partly due to extreme neglect from her legal guardian. Also, Rey mentions being harassed (described as someone being 'handsy' with her, no detailed description) at the age of 14/15, which led to her violently confronting the person. 
> 
> Another warning: Poe mentions wanting to kill someone, and he definitely means it.  
> There's angst in my fluff, because of course.

It isn’t exactly easy to wake up at 08:00 and find Rey gone, as promised. Poe wishes he’d been able to hold her before the day started. He wishes he’d known more of what to say to her last night, how to wipe away the things that had happened to her when she was a child.

She was 17, only _seventeen fucking years old,_ when that monster had tried to kill her. That was seven years ago – he was 25 when she was lying in a hospital bed, recovering from the vicious attack. He’d been nothing but a cocky flyboy who hadn’t really learned what pain was yet. That lesson wouldn’t come for years, and it hadn’t really come until he was an _adult_ , for fuck’s sake.

The major trauma of his childhood was losing Shara – and he’ll never forget the pain of standing beside her coffin in a too-big suit, holding Kes’s hand while his father cried (and no nine year old should have to watch their father cry, he knows that), but still. Shara Bey had loved him, and he had known that love. When she was gone, he still had his father, and Kes had him, and they survived it, together. Poe has never fully appreciated the easy, unconditional love and acceptance he’d had growing up, but he sure as fuck appreciates it now.

Rey Niima is the single best person that’s ever existed. It’s a fact that he doesn’t question, one that he holds true in his heart, one that he’s been aware of for months now, maybe even before she smiled at him over a cactus, _oh God, I bought her a cactus, what is wrong with me_ , and asked him to dinner. Now that he’s not denying it, how much he loves her, it’s easy to think about. He loves her in a way that until now had seemed mythic, unreachable: it’s the true love he first learned about in fairy tales; the kind he heard of in the story of a shy Guatemalan immigrant who caught a glimpse of a pretty girl in his senior homeroom and hadn’t been able to let go, who had followed her into a military career that he didn’t particularly care about just so he could watch her back.

Poe hasn’t been naïve enough to think he’d find the kind of love his parents had, not since he was a teenager and became slightly jaded in his constant pursuit of romance. He didn’t expect he’d be able to find it, let alone recognize it, after watching parts of himself die in a foreign land, his heart shattering in what he’d thought were irreparable ways.

He certainly hadn’t expected to find it in a coffee shop on a Wednesday morning, staring at him with doe eyes, drawing him in with a beauty that managed to be both ethereal and earthly, and knocking down his defenses with an impossibly smart mouth. And now that he’s found it, he’s fairly certain it’s killing him, not knowing how to help her. Poe cannot concentrate on anything other than the fragile, broken look on Rey’s face from last night, the one that had encouraged him to rip open some of his own old wounds, just so they could briefly share in their vulnerability, in their pain; just so she didn’t have to be alone in hers anymore.

He thinks, wildly, that maybe they’ll heal together. Maybe they’ll find a way to match their broken parts, and he can just love her, and it will be enough. But he knows that isn’t how people work. He needs to learn his way around her rough edges, to understand that there may not be an easy way to smooth them. And he needs to show her the rest of his own rough patches. They need to learn each other, and he needs to accept that there may not be a way to step into her past and soothe the scars of what happened to her when she was a child, when he wasn’t there to protect her. Because Rey Niima is too fucking strong for him to romanticize her.

She survived so much, and unlike him, she didn’t emerge from it a half-formed shell of who she used to be. Rey has always stood before him naked, and bold, and proud, and blindingly brilliant with her scars and her wounds.

Poe hides his scars; she wears hers with a glint in her eye, daring the world to question them. It makes sense, in a way. Rey’s scars are a sign of what made her Rey. Poe’s are a sign of what made him decidedly not Poe.

It doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to hold her in his arms and kiss every last one of them. It doesn’t mean he has no desire to hide her away from the world and its cruelties, if even just for stolen hours at a time. It means that he respects her for her strength, admires her for her vulnerability, and loves her with every fiber of his being, and it means that he wants to show her all of that, even if his words fail him.

So yeah, he wishes he could have held her for a little while this morning. She had to open the shop, though, so she’s most likely been gone since 04:30. Poe wipes a hand over his face, breaking his reverie, and sends an apology to her out into the universe – she probably got less than a total of three hours of sleep. He’s already planning how he’s going to help her relax after work when he sets his feet on the floor and spots a note on his dresser.

It’s a quick doodle of Bee, passed out on the bed lying on his back, a short message reading: “Sorry I had to leave before the dawn, soldier. Miss you already. -R” Poe folds the note and holds it against his mouth, smiling. He doesn’t read too much into the small heart after her name, but it makes him blush like he’s a kid again.

Poe puts the note somewhere safe – okay, fine, he puts it in his wallet – and gets up to shower and change before work.

Chirrut in no way goes easy on him, and Poe wonders, more than once, how he’s breaking a sweat in a library.  

***

They’re all grouped around the coffee table at Rose, Finn, and Rey’s apartment, and Poe smiles lazily down at his girlfriend when she sits on the floor and settles against his legs. He begins to play with her hair automatically, his fingers pulling through the brown strands, weaving a braid idly while Rose and Finn argue over whether they’re going to watch a movie or play FIFA.

“What are you two getting up to tomorrow?” Poe asks, suddenly.

They both turn to look at him, mid-argument, fingers still pointed at each other.

“Uh, nothing,” Finn says, dropping his hand to the couch.

“But tomorrow is Thanksgiving,” Poe points out. Rey’s already agreed to come with him to his dad’s house, which makes him happy in a way he doesn’t need to examine. “So what are you two doing for that?”

“Nothing. We have nowhere to be,” Finn shifts in his seat and cracks open a beer.

“What Finn is trying to say,” it’s Rose who interrupts. Her face looks oddly tight. “Is that we’re orphans, so we normally don’t have any Thanksgiving plans.”

Poe looks down at Rey who shrugs. “It’s true,” she says softly. “We’ve just gotten pizza the last few years and then watched the _Friends_ Thanksgiving episodes until one of us starts crying or falls asleep.”

“It’s a little bleak,” Finn adds in a steady, nonchalant voice.

“That – that just won’t do,” Poe says, aghast. “Thanksgiving is _important,_ guys! Here, give me a second.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and sends a quick text. The phone buzzes maybe ten seconds later, and then again, and then again. He throws it onto the coffee table for the other two to see. “There! Kes says you’re all invited to his place for Thanksgiving.”

His dad’s exact text(s):

  _BRING THEM_

_¡Los alimentaré!_

_¡FIESTA!_

Finn picks up the phone and laughs, while Rose asks, “Who’s Kes?”

Rey answers. “Kes is Poe’s dad, and he’s awesome! He’s like three inches shorter than me,” her small hand cuts through the air near her nose, “and he’s the most energetic person I’ve ever met. You guys are going to love him!” She looks up at Poe nervously at the end, probably worried that she should have let Poe explain. Poe smiles at her encouragingly, hoping that a comet will strike the apartment before he gives in to his instinct and lurches forward to grab her and kiss her – maybe more than kiss her – in front of her grinning, all-too-knowing roommates.

“Are you sure? It’s just a day, Poe,” Rose says softly. “You don’t have to worry about us.”

“Worry? I’m worried about me and Rey. My dad will try to feed us until we puke, and it will help to have two extra mouths. I’m inviting you for purely selfish reasons.” Poe grins at Rose. “And ‘just a day’? My dad moved here when he was 14, and Thanksgiving is his very favorite holiday, right up there with the Fourth of July. Don’t let him hear you knock it.” Thanksgiving is a _very_ important day in the Dameron household.

“It’s settled then,” Rey pushes back further into Poe’s legs, and he tangles his fingers in her hair again, undoing the loose braid he’d just made. “We go to Kes’s tomorrow.”

“AIS at 0900, kids,” Poe barks.

“AIS?” Rose wrinkles her nose.

“Ass in seat,” Poe translates. “That means my car is leaving the parking lot at 09:01, so your ass better be in that seat.”

“0900?” Finn groans, covering his face with his hands.

“We are _not_ missing the parade because you don’t want to get up, Trooper!” Poe says, smiling at the other man. “Besides, you can sleep on the way.”

“I’ll make you pancakes,” Rose offers.

Finn considers it. “Fine,” he sighs. “But you’ll see. There’s a reason I work the afternoon shift, Dameron.”

***

Finn snores the entire way to Greenville. Eventually, Rey and Rose take turns chucking Goldfish into his open mouth. Bee watches them goof off idly, politely ignoring the crackers that bounce off his golden-orange fur.

Poe smiles in amusement the whole time, and when Finn finally wakes up, choking on an errantly placed Goldfish, he pretends to scold Rey and Rose.

Really, he casts a glance over at the woman in the seat next to him and unashamedly admires the way the early winter sun plays on her hair, on the freckles that have yet to fade across her cheeks. She catches him staring, and she half-smiles at him, suddenly self-conscious from his examination. Poe clears his throat and returns his gaze to the road.

Soon, they’re at his dad’s house, and the others burst from the car excitedly. Poe doesn’t even get a chance to pull Rey aside and press kisses into her hair like he wants. Instead, he watches her link arms with Rose and bound up the sidewalk.

Rose rings the doorbell, and Poe reaches the foot of the stairs by the time the door opens. A beaming Kes Dameron throws the door open wide.

“¡Feliz día de acción de gracias!” Finn says to Kes, holding out a semi-burnt pie.

“¡Que bien, Finn!” Kes roars. He tugs them all inside, somehow, and before Poe can blink, they’re gathered around the TV watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, Rose in Finn’s lap, and Rey tucked into Poe’s side while Kes grins wildly from his armchair. There are mountains of snacks, as advertised, and everyone laughs and laughs and Poe isn’t sure what they’re laughing about.

He isn’t sure about anything that’s happening, really. His eyes are continually drawn back to Rey, her cheeks glowing with a flush of happiness, her eyes bright and her mouth moving excitedly as she answers and asks questions furiously. Poe privately thinks that he’s never seen anything that shines quite the same way the Rey does. She’s … she’s _entrancing_ is what she is. He never stood a chance.

Kes coughs from the side of the room, and Poe finally drags his eyes away from his girlfriend to look at his dad. Kes is smirking at him in a very self-satisfied way, and Poe rubs his neck nervously, and forces himself to watch the parade for a little bit. It lasts maybe five minutes before he’s drawn to Rey again, her musical laugh requiring every ounce of his attention.

It doesn’t matter if his dad teases him later about how wild he is for Rey. She’s the only thing that matters.

***

Kes somehow manages to make Rose admit defeat, the young woman holding her stomach and groaning into her lap after Kes foists the fourth serving onto her and Rey’s plates. Finn and Poe had given up by round two, and Poe watches in admiration as Rey begins to eat her fifth scoop of mashed potatoes.

Eventually, Rey droops and puts her head on the table. Poe’s briefly concerned until she waves a white napkin in surrender, half-laughing, half-moaning.

“You did it, Mr. Dameron,” Finn says wonderingly. “You found the bottom of the Mariana Trench.”

“Fuck you,” Rey hiccups in the middle of her sentence without lifting her head. “Finn Trooper. Fuck. You.”

Poe rubs her belly until she falls asleep on the couch. When he stands to get a blanket, he catches his dad staring at them. Poe looks at his dad boldly, daring him to say something, but Kes blinks, a strange emotion crossing his face, and walks down the hallway briskly, away from Poe, and into his room. He doesn't come back out for half an hour. 

**

Rey gets a text from Poe early on Friday after Thanksgiving.

Poe Dameron, Cutest Boyfriend of All Time [9:15] _Hey, sweetheart, what are you doing this evening?_

Rey [9:17]: _Nothing, I finish my shift at noon. Why? (Also, did you change your name in my contacts?)_

Poe Dameron, Cutest Boyfriend of All Time [9:18]: _You got me. Don't fight the truth, Niima. And, if you were free and wanted to do something weird, a couple of people that I know are having a post-Thanksgiving party._

Poe Dameron, Cutest Boyfriend of All Time [9:18]: _But again. I can’t stress this enough. Its weird._

Poe Dameron, Cutest Boyfriend of All Time [9:18]: _It’s**_

Rey [9:19]: _I’d be happy to go!_

Rey [9:19]: _Also, you’re dedication to grammar is as endearing as ever._

Poe Dameron, Cutest Boyfriend of All Time [9:20]: _Oh my god you did that on purpose, that’s so mean._

Rey [9:20]: _So, what’s my name in your contacts?_

Poe Dameron, Cutest Boyfriend of All Time [9:21]: _I plead the fifth. I’ll pick you up around 1800 at your place. And again. It’s going to be weird. So weird. Sorry in advance._

***

The weird thing turns out to be a dinner party with Poe’s new boss, Chirrut, Dr. Andor and Dr. Erso,-- both of whom Rey already knows – and Chirrut’s husband, Baze. Half an hour into the meal, a man who’s clearly younger than the rest of the group shows up and nervously introduces himself as Bodhi Rook. Poe gets up to shake his hand, and Rey smiles at him tentatively, trying not to get too swallowed up in just how _loud_  all these people are.

After dinner, they trek into Jyn and Cassian’s living room.

“Now the fun begins!” Cassian declares cheerfully.

“The fun?” Rey asks, settling into a small loveseat next to her boyfriend (and her heart still skips a beat at the word. Poe’s her boyfriend. He’d introduced her as _his girlfriend_  to all of these people. God, she sounds like a middle schooler).

 “We all go around and toast the shit that could have killed us but didn’t,” Jyn says. “It’s probably not healthy, but fuck it, neither are we.”

Poe’s the only person who isn’t holding a drink, just a soda in his hand. Rey grabs a vodka tonic from Baze who winks at her, and she settles back in next to Poe.  

“I’ll start,” Jyn shrugs. Cassian grabs her shoulder, and Rey’s heart flutters at the look of unconditional love and support that passes between them. They’re still ridiculously in love, more than thirty years into their marriage, and Rey secretly, desperately craves that kind of commitment. Poe leans over to kiss her neck lightly, and her stomach clenches. She doesn’t want to get ahead of herself and hope, but –

Jyn raises her glass and toasts to her chosen near-death experience. “A bomb went off and I thought I was going to die. My father had just been assassinated in front of me, and I was fairly certain the stupid man I’d stupidly fallen in love with was also going to die. Spoiler. We didn’t die.” The group cheers and drinks to the finale of her story.

“I nominate Cassian,” Dr. Erso says, having drank from her glass.

“It’s the same story, _mi amor,”_ he reminds her, grinning.

“It sounds better when you tell it,” Jyn waves her hand at him, smiling into her drink. Rey can easily see Jyn as a young woman, at 26, having fallen in love with the brave, spritely man next to her. There’s a ten year age gap between them, not that you could tell. Cassian barely looks a day over 45. They must have been ridiculously attractive and ridiculously daring when they were younger – God knows they’re unstoppable even now.

“Alright, alright,” Cassian relents. “So, I had accepted a mission on behalf of the CIA. It was the 80s, and let me tell you, the op was a total clusterfuck. Probably my hundredth mission, should have been an in-and-out, but then they tell me, ‘Cassian, go pick up this scientist’s daughter, she is vital to the survival of democracy, bla bla bla.’ Anyway, of course it’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, and hands-down the most dangerous. Every person in the world and their mother wanted her dead. I’ve never gotten shot at more on a mission, and I took down drug-running cartels, _¿sabes?_ ”

“I’ll drink to that,” Baze shouts, raising his glass at Jyn. “Our little sister is a nightmare.” The rest of the group grumbles in assent, and Rey laughs softly, leaning into Poe’s side.

“So, after we had completed our mission, and the bomb had gone off, I held the woman who now held my soul in my arms while we waited for certain death. I was knocked unconscious by the force of the bomb, and broke many of my bones; she did too, but she stayed awake, and somehow, in her tiny, incredible body, she found the strength to drag us to safety, hotwired a radio, and called in an evac.” Cassian examines his drink thoughtfully, obvious emotion playing on his still-handsome face.

“That was the day I almost died, and the day I knew I had found the woman I was going to marry.”

The group toasts Cassian’s almost-death, and Jyn mutters, “Sap.”      

“For all you know I was talking about the nurse at the hospital.” Cassian grins at his wife playfully. “She was very cute. Maybe I’ll call her up.”

Jyn pinches him, and Cassian yelps, swatting at her. “Bodhi! I nominate Bodhi,” he cries.

Bodhi, soft-spoken with a British accent, smiles at the group nervously. He has a tic in his face, and he tightens his hands on his drink. Rey likes him instinctively. He spits out the story, looking miserable the whole time. “I was tortured by a supposed-friendly for several days. Lost the ability to-to-to speak for a while, and took about a year to physically recover.” Rey grips Poe’s hand, and quickly checks his face, but Poe looks steadily at Bodhi and sympathy is the only emotion on his face. “I nominate my friend, Poe.” Bodhi doesn’t even wait for the group to toast him, but the look on his face brokers no argument.

Poe raises his can of soda. “Well, I’m sure you all remember from our enjoyable therapy sessions,” and the others nod, “but I may have been involved in some fucked-up shit last year.” Rey squeezes his hand, and he smiles at her reassuringly, his eyes tired but not distant. “Anyway, they had the decency to restart my heart after the third time they waterboarded me. So, here’s to polite hosts.” He raises his Diet Coke sarcastically, and Rey doesn’t even notice the rest of them matching his toast. She’s staring at Poe, her heart thudding in her ears. She tugs on his hand, and he looks over at her.

“Poe,” she whispers. She pulls on his arm, and he leans in to bump his nose against hers. “Poe, darling, what –”

“Not here,” he says quietly, voice rough. “I’ll tell you more later.” Rey nods, and fights the urge to run out of the room crying. He clears his throat and pulls away from her. He loudly announces, “I nominate Baze and Chirrut.”

“That’s cheating, they can’t go together, Cassian and I didn’t go together,” Jyn protests, her drink sloshing over the sides of her glass.

“We’ve been married since you were in diapers,” Baze scolds her. “We can go together whenever we want.” Jyn harrumphs but doesn’t protest further.  “Want to help me with this, Chirrut, or should I tell the whole thing?”

“You should tell it,” Chirrut smiles pleasantly in Baze’s direction. “You have a much better way with words than I do.”

“That’s a damn lie,” Baze snorts. “The man’s a poet, and he refuses to admit it.” He shakes his head at Rey but gives the story. “This one walked into a storm of bullets to save a civilian’s life. But of course, he’d forgotten that he was also a civilian, and not a damn superhero. He was hit in the stomach, and I assumed he was dead. So I may have grabbed a gun and ran in after him. Planned on dying in his arms, very romantic.”

“Ah, but the universe had other plans for us.” They exchange a slow smile, and Rey feels briefly like she’s intruding on something significant. “We lived to see another day, and I thank the force that carries the galaxy on its back daily for that chance.”

“Like I said, he’s a poet.” Baze rests his forehead against Chirrut’s fondly. Bodhi gazes at them happily before seeming to remember that there’s a toast. He’s the last one to drink to their brush with death.

“What’s next?” Cassian asks.

“There’s still one person left. I nominate the little lady,” Baze nods towards Rey. His husband grabs his arm warningly, and Baze gives him a strange look that Chirrut may or may not be able to see. It looks like he’s asking, _what’s the big deal?_

“It’s Rey’s first time, she doesn’t have to if she doesn’t want to,” Cassian says diplomatically, smiling at Rey. Poe drapes an arm around her shoulder, making the movement seem casual, but the weight of it grounds her and immediately makes her more comfortable.

“I’ll go,” she smiles. “And it’s fitting that we’re drinking.” Poe shifts next to her, and she can feel him staring at her. She pointedly avoids his gaze, and looks out at the rest of the group. She feels like she’s staring out into her past, and not at any person in particular. Rey smiles, knowing it doesn’t reach her eyes, and lets slip another part of herself.

“The first time I almost died, I don’t remember, I was too young.” Rey counts it as lucky that she was only a baby when she was abandoned. It hasn’t done wonders for her mental health or her trust levels, she knows, but there’s no actual memory of her terror. “But then, when I was 16, my foster father got into a bar fight. That was a common occurrence for him.” Rey runs her finger along the rim of her glass, and she continues to avoid Poe’s eyes. He doesn’t know this story, but he’s seen its result, whether or not he realizes it.

“He owed some people some money, and he’d dragged me along with him because I had a particular skill set that could be used to barter. When fists started to get thrown, I had to fight my way out. Some asshole – my foster father or maybe one of his delightful friends – smashed a beer bottle and was just swinging it around. It caught me in the stomach, and I lost a lot of blood. It managed to cause an injury to my bowel, which was the real problem. My foster father refused to take me to a hospital until the morning because he didn’t want any questions to be asked. Said that I tripped and landed on a knife while gardening and then had hidden it for twelve hours. I was too out of it by that point to argue with him, so,” Rey shrugs. “Anyway, that’s how I almost died that time.” She raises her glass and drinks until it’s gone. No one else drinks.  

“Nobody questioned that a 16-year-old was in a bar?” Bodhi asks, brow furrowed. Rey frowns at him.

“No? I mean, they were used to seeing me. I had pulled Unkar out of shit like that since I was 12. Although, I was mildly surprised they let me back in after I broke a guy’s face with a pool cue.” The vodka runs through her system, making her tongue far looser than normal.

“You did what?” Baze’s eyebrows are up to his hairline.

Rey snorts, and she tries not to analyze why Poe’s frozen in his seat next to her. The story’s coming out whether or not she wants it to. “Yeah, some creep got too handsy with me when I was 14 – no, 15. So I grabbed a pool cue and beat the crap out of him with it. Can you believe that _I_ got hit with the assault charge? Thank God they tried me as a minor. Pretty sure it’s been expunged by now.”

“Holy shit.” Bodhi stares at her. “Holy fucking –”

“Let’s drink to that,” Jyn says, raising her glass. “To clean records, and broken faces for assholes.”

“Hear, hear,” Rey giggles. The group breaks off into side conversations, the trauma-sharing over for now, and she turns to look at her boyfriend.

He’s gripping his knees, staring at the ground. Rey slips her hand over one of his, and whispers his name. “Poe? Are you alright?” He doesn’t respond. “Poe, darling, was it too much to talk about what happened to you? Do you need to leave?”

He stands suddenly and pulls her by the hand. Rey gets up and follows him, clutching his hand with both of hers. They walk through the living room, and Rey shrugs at Jyn when they pass her. The older woman looks at her steadily, no surprise or curiosity on her face, just calm assessment.

They end up in the hallway that leads to the bathroom, and Rey leans against the wall. The only light is from the living room, and Poe’s face is oddly cast in the half-light.

“Are you okay?” She asks him.

“Are _you_ okay?” He repeats back at her. His hands reach out for her, but he snatches them back, a thunderous look crossing his face.

Rey stares at him. Is this really where it becomes too much for him? “I know – I know that was a lot, and I’m sorry if I embarrassed you,” she whispers.

“What?” Poe steps in closer to her, and even though she’s incredibly worried, she feels her body respond to his proximity, curving slightly to bring her closer to him. _Sunflowers are heliotropic, red vine tendrils are thigmotropic, Rey Niima is Poetropic._ She giggles slightly, pleased by her train of thought, and she’s about to tell him about it, when he keeps talking.

“How could you – why would I be embarrassed of you?”

Rey shrugs, not liking the sad look on Poe’s face. The orange light from the end of the hallway throws a shadow over his handsome face, but she can still see that he’s sad. “I probably over-shared, and now your friends think I’m weird. Sorry. I’m a little tipsy.”

He makes a strangely wounded noise, and steps in impossibly closer. He’s bracketing her legs with his own, now, and Rey very much likes the feeling. “Sunshine, we’re an intense group. If anything, they know that you’re tough, and a damn sight braver than I am. Are you okay?”

She wrinkles her nose. “I’m fine, Poe. I would have told you that story eventually, anyway.”

“I can’t believe someone would hurt you like that.” Poe holds his hand out, slowly, and asks, “Can I touch you?” Rey nods, happily, and even though he rests his hand over where her scar is, she sighs contentedly at the feeling of his hand on her. “I’m going to hunt that bastard down,” Poe says so lowly, she thinks she’s misheard him.

“What did you say?” Rey grabs at his free hand. “Poe, what?”

“I’m going to hunt him down, and I’m going to kill him.”

Rey stiffens. “Don’t say that.”

“I mean it,” Poe looks up at her, eyes burning. “I’m going to hunt him down, and I want to destroy him. I want him to feel it, feel the pain of every fucking thing he ever did to you.”

“No, Poe,” Rey pulls his other hand off her stomach so she can cup both of them in her own. “Please don’t say that, my love. You’re a good man, and I don’t even want you to think something like that. I’m okay – I’m _fine,_ Poe, I’m fine now. And I’m here, with you. Please don’t ever think you need to hurt someone for me. That wouldn’t do anything. I’ll still be hurt, and you’ll have…you’ll have sacrificed part of what makes you good, because of me.” Rey needs him to hear this.

“I don’t deserve you,” he says, softly, his voice rough and heady.

“Hush,” Rey tells him. “Hush, and kiss me, please.”

"I can't, Sunshine." Poe smiles regretfully. "You said it yourself: you're tipsy. I promise I'll kiss you later."

"Fair enough," Rey concedes. She's definitely sure she's sober enough to consent to Poe's lips on hers, but she knows this is important to him. "You can kiss me later." Poe smiles, but she catches him with a finger on his lips. “But only if you promise me you’ll never, ever think that hurting someone else is going to solve anything. Because it won’t, and it’s beneath you. I appreciate the sentiment, but I’ve had enough of violence.”

“I promise,” Poe makes such intense eye contact, she can almost feel it bruise her soul. “I promise, Sunshine. And I promise that you’ll never know violence again, not if I can help it.”

“Okay,” Rey nods thoughtfully. “I accept. To be continued?” She asks hopefully.

Poe nods enthusiastically, and threads his fingers through hers once more.

“Poe, before I forget,” Rey tugs on his hand. “Unkar Plutt: he’s dead. Died three years ago. Liver failure.”

“Small mercies,” Poe says darkly. Rey tsks at him, and leads him back into the warm living room.

They settle back into the couch, and Rey ignores the smirk from Jyn. She suspects Jyn is wrongfully assuming what they just got up to in her darkened hallway. Rey ignores the blush on her cheeks, and tunes into a lively conversation between Cassian and Baze about some ridiculous mission they completed before Cassian retired to get his doctorate.

At the end of the story – which somehow involved a snake, a missing bottle of 200 year old wine, and a feathered hat – Jyn clears her throat and claps her hands.

“Well, I don’t know about you all, but I’d like some music. Poe?”

Poe smiles at her bashfully. “Awww, Dr. Erso, I don’t know if that’s –”

“Nope, you have to.” Jyn gets up and produces a guitar from the corner of the living room. “Cassian’s arthritis has been acting up in the cold, so I haven’t heard a good song in a while. Besides, he can’t sing for shit.”

“ _Y también te amo,_ Jyn,” Cassian calls from his seat on the couch. She grins at her husband and hands the guitar to Poe.

“Something cheerful, if you don’t mind, Major.”

 “En Español!” Cassian cries.

“Fine,” Poe heaves a dramatic sigh and smiles at Rey apologetically. She doesn’t care though – she’s long over the shifty, second-hand embarrassment of seeing someone give themselves so fully to their art. Poe throws himself into his music in a way that she’s only ever thrown herself into building things. She understands now that they have different ways of expressing themselves; and his way just happens to be ridiculously attractive.

Poe tunes the guitar for a second, head cocked as he considers the notes. Rey admires the way his long fingers adjust the strings until it’s to his liking. He winks at her playfully, and she feels her vision tunnel in until he’s the only thing she sees. It’s an increasingly common occurrence.

_“Me quedo callado/Soy como un niño dormido/Que puede despertarse con apenas solo un ruido/Cuando menos te lo esperas/Cuando menos lo imagino/Sé que un día no me aguanto y voy y te miro”_

“I said something cheerful, damnit!” Jyn hollers. She’s shushed by Cassian, his hand clapped over her mouth.

Poe huffs a laugh and continues, the skin around his ears and neck a warm shade of red. It’s a different setting than Rey’s used to seeing him perform in, and she squirms at the sudden urge to kiss him. Poe sings on, oblivious to effect he has on her.

Cassian jumps in on the chorus, shouting the lyrics and ignoring his wife tugging on his sleeve. His voice isn’t bad at all, regardless of what Jyn said.

_“Yo, yo no me doy por vencido/Yo quiero un mundo contigo/Juro que vale la pena esperar, y esperar y esperar un suspiro/Una señal del destino/No me canso, no me rindo, no me doy por vencido”_

It’s a beautiful sentiment, the parts she understands, and she knows she wants him to play it again later, when it’s just the two of them, where she can stop and ask what certain parts mean, where she can ask if he’s singing it with someone like her in mind. Rey shakes her head. She isn’t sure she’s _that_ brave, no matter what Poe insists.

***

Soon after Poe’s impromptu performance, they get ready to leave. The others make their exit before them, Bodhi going upstairs to crash on the guest bed, and Poe and Rey stand in the entrance with their hosts.

“I got it, I got it,” Rey tells Poe when he tries to help her put on her jacket. He smiles tightly, apologizes, and gives her a few feet of space. Rey stares at his back while he loops a scarf around his neck, confused. Why would she need help putting her jacket on?

“Rey,” Jyn beckons her over while Poe’s lacing his shoes. “Come help me with something before you leave.”

“Of course, Dr. Erso.” Rey follows the older woman into the kitchen. “What do you need me to do?”

“Listen to me.” Jyn raises an eyebrow at her. “That boy out there loves you.” Rey’s breath catches in her throat. Of all the things she expected to hear Jyn Erso say, that was not one of them.

“Um,” Rey clasps her hands awkwardly. “Oh.” She doesn’t know what else to say, and her eyes dart to the front room, where she can hear Poe and Cassian talking.

“You’re very much like me, Rey,’ Jyn looks at her appraisingly. “And you can decide for yourself if that’s a compliment or not. I spent most of my early adult years on the run, running from things that weren’t my fault, but running all the same. It made me hard, and angry, and more than a little walled-off. I didn’t trust anyone for over ten years. And then I met Cass. I wanted to shoot him for the first few weeks, but then he wore me down. Not in a bad way—in the way that counts. I was convinced I didn’t belong anywhere, that I didn’t have a home, but Cass became my home. Because I let him become my home. And he has _never_ let me down.

“It sounds like you’ve been through a lot, and I can see that you don’t think you deserve the way that man out there treats you. I’ve only known you for short while, but I see the way you look at him. I see that you’re afraid he’s going to leave you. I can see it because I used to feel it. I wasted time with Cass because I didn’t think he was going to stick around. I assumed he was going to leave, or that I was going to leave. But it’s been 32 years, and he’s still here, and so am I. I have not known your Major for very long, but I can tell you this. Poe Dameron is not the kind of man that will leave you. He just isn’t.”

Rey realizes that she’s crying, and Jyn regards her without pity. She wipes her eyes, and laughs when the other woman slides a box of tissues at her. “Sorry,” she sniffs. “I don’t usually do this.”

“I didn’t think so.” Jyn smiles at her kindly. “Think about what I said, Rey. There’s nothing wrong with letting that boy love you. We have all dealt with some serious shit in our life. And the best way to rebel against that, to stick your middle finger up at the rest of the universe, is to just be happy in spite of its best efforts to kick you when you’re down.”

Jyn holds her arms out for a hug, which Rey accepts, surprised. They’ve known each other for over a year, and she has never imagined Jyn to be a hugger. She wipes her eyes a few more times, and Jyn gives her a sly grin and a thumbs up, helping to wipe away some of Rey’s mascara before they return to the men in the foyer.

When Poe holds the door for her on the way out of the Andor-Erso household, Rey smiles at him and thanks him. She takes his offered arm and leans into his shoulder, and she even lets him open the car door for her without protest. It’s ridiculous how happy he looks at this change in pace, and it warms something sweet and light and _good_ inside of her.

She doesn’t think an ability to trust openly is going to form overnight, but Jyn’s words have stirred hope, hope for a future with Poe, to life inside her. It’s a feeling she isn’t used to encouraging, but she has a feeling it’s worth the risk.

**

***

 Poe calls his dad for their regular weekly phone call while he’s standing in his kitchen. Quickly, the conversation shifts to the topic of Christmas in three weeks.

“I gotta figure out what to get Rey for Christmas,” Poe smacks his head against his counter and groans. “Fuck, I missed her birthday, I have to get her something perfect.”

“Give her the ring.” His dad sounds bizarrely serious.

“No, dad, ugh, we haven’t even said ‘I love you’ yet, why would I propose?”

“You could just – give it to her? And then explain it later? Just throwing ideas out there.”

Poe slumps down to sit on the floor and rests his head on the cabinet behind him. “Dad, that is the worst fucking idea I’ve ever heard. How would that even work? Like, two years from now:  ‘Hey, sweetheart, remember how I gave you that ring after four months of dating? Yeah, I secretly proposed to you. This party we’re at? It’s our wedding. Surprise!’ I’m pretty sure she would kill me. And then you. Because with my dying breath I would pin it all on you, old man.”

Kes laughs into the phone, and Poe smiles despite his aggravation. “I’m trying to make sure you keep this one, Poe. Rey’s amazing, and she makes you so happy, happier than I’ve seen you in years. I want her to stick around. And as far as you two not saying ‘I love you,’ or whatever _montón de_ _mierda_ you’re trying to feed me right now – I saw you with her at Thanksgiving. You already tell her you love her. You tell her all the time. It’s written on your face, _mijo,_ and that’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

He knows he’s blushing, but what his dad is saying is incredibly true. It feels like his love for Rey surges through his blood, telegraphed between every single one of his heartbeats. He worries sometimes that she’ll hear it when she falls asleep pressed against his chest.

“You’re probably right, Papá.”

“We both know I’m right, Poe. Now, all this fuss about your girlfriend’s present – I hope you’re putting the same thought into your father’s gift!”

“You’re getting socks,” Poe tells him savagely. “You’re getting white socks, and maybe if you’re lucky, I won’t have worn them first.”

They banter back and forth a little while longer, and when his dad hangs up, Poe groans, not any closer to figuring out Rey’s present. He slides down all the way so he’s lying on his back on his kitchen floor. Bee comes up to investigate and snuffles his face curiously.

“Help me Beebee, you’re my only hope,” he begs his dog. Bee licks his chin, but wanders away to eat some kibble without offering a bit of wisdom. “God, this is hopeless.” Poe flings his arms out and stares at his ceiling, waiting for inspiration.

**

Ben Solo sits down across from Armitage Hux in a nice restaurant outside of Durham.

“So, Hux, care to explain your employer’s interest in Major Poe Dameron?” He asks nonchalantly after their wine arrives.

“What’s _your_ interest, Solo?” Hux sneers. “Last I heard, he was fucking the woman you were so keen on having for yourself.”

“That’s exactly it,” Ben says. He doesn’t care that this has descended into hostility so quickly. He and Hux aren’t friends, never have been, but they know each other fairly well. No use in false pretense of polite manners. “Snoke has interfered in the life of a person I care about.” There’s no need for him to tell Hux that his interest in Rey is largely fraternal, platonic, in this instance. The girl’s been through enough, and he won’t let the First Order become another thing that hurts her.

“Snoke upset _you_? The high and mighty Ben Solo who turned his back on us? Tell him yourself if you’re so buggered.” Hux shrugs and drinks some of his Bordeaux.

“I don’t need to tell Reginald Snoke shit,” Ben drawls, stretching out his long legs and knocking them against Hux’s obnoxiously. “But, he should be very worried about what I can tell other people.”

“You wouldn’t,” Hux hisses. His pallid skin flames red in anger. Hux is a loyal dog, if nothing else. “You’d go down with us, Solo. Your hands aren’t clean.”

“Fucking watch me,” Ben snaps. He looks up and sees the waitress approaching. “Huh. Looks like our calamari’s arrived.”

He smiles at the woman before she leaves, and hands Hux a small plate. They eat in stony silence, and Ben finds himself choking on deranged, anxious laughter only twice.

No point in wasting perfectly good food, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this was later than usual, I went to birthday dinner with my family (it's not quite my birthday, but this day worked for the fam and it /is/ my brother's birthday, so double birthday fun!)
> 
> (The song is No Me Doy Por Vencido, by Luis Fonsi, and it's dedicated to my roommate, who will probably read this endnote in a day or two and yell at me through the wall about it <3 )
> 
> Next chapter is Christmas! and then Valentine's Day! (and there's angst in between, but I swear to you, everyone is fine and everyone gets a happy ending that deserves a happy ending.) 
> 
>  
> 
> **Chapter 16 will be up Saturday morning** (but I promise lots of fluffy stuff and maybe even some plot, who knows)


	16. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas at Kes's house; Poe continues his mission of being open with Rey; Poe/Rey present exchange; Rey visits the Organa-Solo house for their own awkward Christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Poe pushes through a lot of anxiety to get naked with Rey  
> Warning 2: Implied oral sex
> 
>  
> 
> Rating: M

On December 23, Finn and Rose leave to go to Disneyworld for four days. “We’ll see you when we get back!” Rose chirps, kissing Rey on the cheek at the departure gate. Poe had offered to drop them off, and he's standing behind Rey, his car idling outside in the drop-off lane. “And don’t worry about the shop. Unless it burns down, I don’t want to hear about you stepping foot in there tomorrow or the 25th.”

“It’s fine, Rose, really.” Rey squeezes her friend’s hands. “Even if I have to go in, I don’t mind. I like the shop.” It’s true, but she also really hopes there isn’t an emergency. She’s going to Kes’s for Christmas, and she’d really rather not have an interruption.

“I hope you get lots of good presents from your boyfriend!” Rose says cheerfully. She leans in under the pretense of kissing her on the cheek again, and whispers, “And that you get that good holiday dick, girl.”

“Rose Amelie Tico!” Rey pinches her side.

Rose laughs cheerfully and goes to hug an unsuspecting Poe.

“Merry Christmas, Rey.” Finn holds his arms out and Rey steps in to hug him tightly. Finn was her first real friend, and she feels stupidly emotional at the thought of not spending Christmas with him, even if they both have plans that will probably involve vast amounts of happiness.

“Are you going to ask?” She whispers into the air behind his shoulder. Finn nods, nervously, and she hugs him tighter in response.

“Good luck, Trooper.” Rey steps back and pretends that there aren’t tears in her eyes. Finn does the same. “If she hasn’t figured it out that you’re hopeless yet, she might not ever.”

“That’s encouraging, thank you.”

Finn and Poe slap each other on the back in a very manly fashion before laughing and hugging each other tightly without saying a word. Rey smiles at them fondly; she’s so glad they’ve become friends on their own.

Then, Rose and Finn walk off towards security, and Rey’s left watching them disappear behind darkened screens.

“Ready, Miss Niima?” Poe asks, appearing at her side and holding his arm out.

“Of course, Major Dameron.” Rey tucks her hand into his elbow and they walk out the front doors, into his waiting car.

***

It’s an understatement, really, to say Kes is excited about them staying with him on Christmas Eve.

He talks a mile a minute while he lugs their suitcases up the front steps, ignoring Rey and Poe’s protests that they can handle it.

***

**

Rey doesn’t unpack her stuff, even after he dumps his change of clothes for tomorrow on his desk. She holds her duffel bag awkwardly against her chest, and when he holds his hands out and offers to unpack for her, she holds it tighter and shakes her head.

“No, thank you.” She looks uncomfortable.

“It’s no problem, really, sweetheart.”

“No – no, I uh, like to keep my things in the bag.” Her face is pink, and Poe understands immediately. She’d told him a week ago that she’d been to five foster homes before the age of four, before Ben Kenobi took her in. She’d also told him that as a teenager she’d slept with her belongings under her pillow, within arm’s reach at all times, often falling asleep with her backpack still on. _Don’t be an idiot, Dameron._

“Not a problem,” Poe says as cheerfully as possible, even as that old, dark anger that had surfaced so intensely at Cass and Jyn’s rises inside him once more. He wants to fight the entire fucking world for Rey Niima; he wants to find someone responsible for what happened to her, and make them suffer. “You want to put it on the bed?” Rey nods and places the bag near her pillow. It makes Poe’s heart ache to see her set it down with such care.

“Your presents are in there,” Rey says softly. “Sorry, I just…I want to make sure I don’t lose them.”

“Of course, Sunshine.” Poe holds his arms out, and she steps into the hug. “Can I kiss you?”

Rey nods and pulls away slightly so she can tilt her head and press her mouth against his. Poe sighs happily, enjoying the feeling of Rey in his arms while they sway back and forth aimlessly.

Then he remembers that he wanted to do something tonight.

“Can we try something again?” Poe asks nervously.

“Yes!” Rey steps back and claps her hands excitedly. She’s always so damn open to new experiences. He envies her bravery. “What did you have in mind?”

 “I uh…it’d be me trying something. And—my dad’s downstairs if – if you need him.” Poe fidgets, avoiding her eyes.

“Why would I need him?” Rey sounds concerned, now.

“I don’t know how I’m going to react, sweetheart. I want you to get him if something goes wrong. He was, uh, with me last year. He’s used to it.” _He can pin me down, so you don’t have to. I don’t want you to have to do that._

“Poe –”

“If it’s too much for you,  you don’t even have to stick around, seriously. I won’t hold it against you if I come out of it and you’re not here, I just want you to be happy, and I honestly don’t think seeing me like that is going to make you happy.”

“ _Poe_ —”

“I just really want to try this, now, when I’m somewhere I recognize, I lived here for a while after my mom died, you know? And I went through a lot of shit in here, and I figured I’d know the difference between here and the desert–”

“Poe Dameron, please look at me.”

He cuts himself off and turns to Rey. She has tears in her eyes – goddamnit, how does he fuck everything up – and her lip is quivering. “Poe,” she holds her arms out and he steps into them, it’s like free fall, he can’t pull up, he doesn’t want to. Rey’s arms anchor him, and she whispers into his neck, “You don’t have to do something if you don’t want to. Don’t think you have to do anything, not for me.”

“I’m doing it for us,” Poe tells her. “I’m doing it for you, but also for me. I want to do it. It’s just going to be hard.”

Rey pulls out of the hug to put her hands on his face, cupping his jaw and cheeks gently. Poe closes his eyes, reveling in the grounding warmth of her palms. “What is it that you want to do, my love?”

Oh, right. He should explain. But first, something inside him, the part not rippling with anxiety, purrs at the endearment. He loves hearing her say that word. She’s been using it more frequently, whether or not she noticed, and he’d never admit it, but he stays up some nights imagining the word strung together with two others. He imagines her voice saying the phrase that sings inside him at all times when he thinks of her.

“I want to – to” he gestures at his clothes, unsure of the best way to phrase it. “I want to be naked in front of you.” He stares at the floor. Rey’s thumbs stroke along the beginnings of his beard and he raises his eyes to hers reluctantly.

“You’re an incredibly brave person, Poe,” Rey tells him. He doesn’t believe her, but he grabs onto the praise like the lifeline it is. “And I will help you however I can. Just tell me what to do, even if it’s to just stand and wait.”

Poe nods, and his hands go to his belt. Rey taps him on the shoulder and he looks up. “Do you want me to help with that?” She isn’t pushy, or seductive. Just thoughtful.

Poe shakes his head. “No. No, I need to do it myself, I think. The first time. Maybe the first couple times.” Rey nods and takes her hand away from his shoulder.

Poe undoes the buckle of his belt and pulls it out of the loops slowly. Rey watches the movement steadily, and folds her hands behind her back. He smiles at her, continuing to prepare the removal of the rest of his clothes by undoing certain buttons and pulling his shirt out of his pants. She looks up and returns the smile.

“Good,” she says softly. “You’re doing so well, love.” Poe initially preens although he feels slightly ridiculous. No, he definitely feels ridiculous. Ashamed, even.

“You deserve better than this.” It comes out of his mouth before he can stop it, the button to his pants undone, and his shirt untucked.

“Don’t say that,” Rey steps forward again, holding her hands out. He takes them and brings them to his lips, pressing kisses into her scarred knuckles – he knows why they’re scarred now, and fuck, he hates the reason at the same time he’s glad she told him – as an apology for his inability to do this naturally. “Please, don’t say that. I can make my own choices, and I know my own mind. I want this. I want you. However that happens, however that looks.” Her chin is out proudly, and her eyes flash. Rey’s a warrior, and she’s stronger than he’ll ever be. Maybe he can borrow some of that strength, now. She continues, “ _You’re_ what I want. Don’t tell me about deserve. You don’t know how hard it is for me to tell myself I deserve anything you give me, that I’m good enough for you. So, let’s just focus on what we both want.”

She’s beautiful, and perfect, -- and _how could she ever think she’s not good enough for him? She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to him_ – and he loves her. He loves her but he can’t tell her, so he’ll try to show her.

He unbuttons his shirt and slides it off. They’ve gone this far before. She’s never so much as flinched at the scars on his arms. The ones on his torso are so much worse, but no – no, he isn’t going to think of that, or he’ll never finish this.

The pants are next, and soon he’s as bare as he’s ever been in front of her, standing in boxers and a thin undershirt.

“Are you still okay, Poe?” Rey asks softly. He nods and rubs his hands together nervously. “What would help?” He shrugs, helplessly.

He loves Rey. He trusts Rey. He wants to do this. He repeats these facts over and over again in his head. But it doesn’t change the fact that he feels raw, broken, on edge. He’s baring himself for an audience, and soon the pain will start, and he’ll have no way to protect himself and –

“Breathe, Poe.” Rey hasn’t moved, but when he forces himself to open his eyes, he sees the agonized concern in her face. “You don’t have to do any more than that.”

“Want to,” he spits out.

“Would it help if I were naked, too?” Rey asks, genuinely curious. “I still wouldn’t touch you, but we’d be … equal? Level the field?”

Poe considers it, and it honestly makes a lot of sense. “Okay,” he whispers. “Yeah. But ...” His body tenses. “Sweetheart, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me. I trust you, Poe.” Rey smiles at him reassuringly. She pulls her dress over her head without ceremony. Poe’s seen her naked, has memorized every curve of her body, every sharp angle and soft bit of flesh. He’s mapped her scars in his mind, and he treasures his knowledge of the places that make her sigh with the lightest pressure. Rey shimmies out of her tights, and stands in her underwear, a sight that usually makes his pants uncomfortable, but tonight just calms his heart.

This is Rey, and he is Poe. They can just be two people standing across from each other, standing despite the world’s best efforts to knock them down. Rey is beautiful, and he cannot imagine how she thinks of him, if she will flinch when she sees the rest of him, if she will recoil at the feel of scar tissue under her delicate, clever fingers, if she will leave him when she realizes and sees exactly how and where he broke.

But then she blushes and smiles, looking up at him under lowered eyelashes. She exudes patience, kindness, acceptance. She is _perfect,_ a fallen star come to rest on the earth, to light a way through the dark for him and all the other exhausted souls who stumble across her. Rey Niima will not turn her back on him, Poe knows. She will not reject him, not over this. There is not a cruel bone in her body – he will not insult her by assuming she will hate him for his imperfections.

Poe takes a deep breath, smiles at his girlfriend, and pulls his shirt off. As the fabric slides over his head, he closes his eyes. He leaves them closed while he drops his shirt on the floor, feeling the warmth of the discarded item brush onto the tops of his feet – also scarred.

Rey does not say anything. There is no sharp inhalation, no muttered curse, no caught breath bleeding into a sob. He forces himself to open his eyes, and he’s surprised to find her looking not at the gouged mark on his lower stomach, not at the poorly healed burn marks from an improvised AED, not at the curling marks of a whip that start on his back and wind around to his ribs – but at the necklace that carries his tags and his ring.

“I always wondered what that was,” Rey says thoughtfully. She cocks her head to the side and considers it. “ _El anillo._ It’s what your dad was talking about on your birthday.”

“It was my mother’s,” Poe confirms. “She left it to me.”

“It’s beautiful,” Rey says. Poe holds his breath, and finds himself relieved that she doesn’t finish that thought with something like ‘so are you.’ He doesn’t think he could handle that right now. “And is that your, um, dog tag?”

“Yeah.” One of them, at least.

“How are you feeling?” Rey asks.

“I feel like… I want you to try to touch me,” Poe says. He grinds his feet into the carpet and grips his hands behind his back. “If you want.”

“I definitely want to. But, maybe tell me what you want me to touch?” Rey steps forward lightly and stands in front of him. Poe can honestly say this is the first time he’s been presented with her gorgeous tits and has had no desire to bury himself in them. His nerves feel caught on a razor wire, and he’s worried that any ill-conceived stimulus will pitch him forward into a flashback he might not come back from. “I won’t touch anywhere without your permission, and we’ll stop the second you don’t want to keep going.”

“Yeah, that’s a good idea. Um. Start with my arms?”

“Okay,” Rey nods and quirks her mouth, considering. She holds her hands out expectantly, and Poe loosens his death grip on his wrists to place his hands in hers. “You’re in control, Poe. Whatever you want, we’ll do. When you want to stop, we’ll stop.” He nods, tears stinging his eyes. “I’m so proud of you.”

Rey rubs circles into his wrist and then drags her fingertips up his forearms. She lazily runs circuits like that sometimes trailing up to his biceps, skimming over the scars from knives, and the gunshot wound from a graze he got saving Tekka in the first place, hours before the whole thing went to shit.

“Do you want me to talk? Or do you want to talk?” Rey asks softly. “Or do you want silence.”

Poe considers it briefly. “I want you to talk.”

“Well, my thesis defense is next semester,” Rey begins. “And I’m a little worried about not able to research enough if I’m working full time. But,” she shrugs, still stroking his arms. “I’ll figure it out. Always do.”

Poe breathes through his nose, out his mouth, like he was taught. “Do you need any help?” He asks, awkwardly. He has a fucking ridiculous amount of money sitting in savings – his mother had come from a wealthy family, and he inherited a large sum of money when he turned 18. Then, his life had been the military, and with no family to support, the money he’d made had nowhere to go.

She snorts. “No, no, you don’t get to live out your ‘Pretty Woman’ fantasies with me, Dameron. No matter how much I may resemble Julia Roberts.” She bats her eyelashes playfully.

“You don’t look anything like Julia Roberts,” Poe denies just as playfully. He can’t feel his heartbeat anymore, which he takes as a good sign. “But, I do believe that I take after a young Richard Gere.”

“You wish, flyboy,” Rey teases him, her hands stilling at his shoulders. “Or, he wishes, more like.” She winks at him coquettishly, and Poe, fuck him, blushes. “I love it when you blush,” Rey comments without embarrassment. “You’re so stinking pretty, it isn’t fair.”

“You’re the pretty one,” Poe mumbles. Her hands are still at his shoulders, rubbing circles into the taut skin there. “Um, you can touch my chest, if you want.” He closes his eyes, surprisingly blissful, as Rey’s hands move over his pectorals with the same light touch and care she’d exhibited on his arms.

He releases a breath he’d forgotten he was holding when her fingers skim the necklace. “Pretty,” she says as she circles the ring once. Poe catches her hand, holds it in place, and opens his eyes to find her staring at him in mild surprise.

“Feels nice,” he says, if only to stop himself from saying _it would look better on you._

“Good.” Rey looks triumphant, proud, and so strangely happy. “I want you to feel nice.” Her nails scratch under his collarbone by accident, and Poe hisses. “Oh fuck, I’m sorry!” Rey pulls her hands away and Poe shakes his head rapidly.

“No, no, no, that was, uh. That was definitely a good feeling.” He looks down in embarrassment to confirm his suspicion. His cock, the traitor, has decided that this is now suddenly a sex thing, and not a ‘we’re terrified of rejection and being hurt, so cool your jets, smaller Poe’ thing. Rey catches the path of his gaze and looks down. She doesn’t smirk, but she smiles, sweetly.

“It’s okay,” she says. “The body reacts to certain stimuli, I know it doesn’t mean you want anything like that. We don’t have to do anything like that. This is enough.”

“Thank you,” Poe whispers. “I don’t think I want that right now.” His body has its own idea, but his brain definitely does not think they can do anything sexual right this second. Bless her. Bless Rey. Bless the universe for letting him cross paths with her.

Rey’s hands return to his chest, and she swoops a finger curiously down the middle of his pectorals. That also feels nice, and Poe leans into it.

“Stomach is okay, if you want to touch it.” He tenses in preparation, and Rey stills her exploration.

“Only if you’re sure. You don’t look sure, Poe.”

“You can. I trust you.”

Rey smiles in confirmation, and drags her hands down to his stomach, her eyes following the path she’s taking. Poe holds his breath, waits for her to ask, and sure enough, her rosebud mouth opens and she says—

“I see the problem.” Poe stiffens further, somehow. “Your abs. They’re just not fair, Dameron.”

“What?” He laughs nervously.

“Your fuckin’ ab muscles, Dameron!” Rey pokes him gently, so, so gently, he almost giggles. It almost tickles. That’s the first time he’s felt something like that in almost two years. “Like, is this a Pygmalion thing? Are you secretly a marble statue come to life? Do the Roman cathedrals know a Michaelangelo wandered away in the middle of the night and has come down amongst mankind to demonstrate ideal masculinity?”

“Stop it,” Poe laughs for real and grabs her finger. Again, if she’d said something about him being _beautiful_ or _so sexy,_ or anything like that, he’d balk, assuming she was lying to make him feel better about being damaged. But her compliments are bizarre, and unpracticed, and hilarious, and utterly Rey, so they make him laugh at the same time they make him feel genuinely pleased.

Rey runs her fingers along the ridges of his stomach, her path including the edge of his largest scar. She doesn’t even blink at it, just grins appreciatively at the way his muscles bunch and shiver under her warm fingers. “I should stop? I’m not the one who can skip buying a cheese grater because I have a perfectly sharp set of tools under my shirt!”

“You’re ridiculous,” Poe cracks up fully, and tangles her fingers with his.

“Maybe,” Rey sings. “But you chose to put up with me, so _ha_!” He steps forward until his feet are on either side of hers, and there’s so little space left to be eliminated.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, fully intending for it to be a sweet, happy one.

“I’d complain if you didn’t,” Rey answers cheerfully. Their lips press together, and it certainly is sweet at first.

But then Poe’s body _remembers._ It remembers that the only thing separating him from Rey is two layers of fabric. It remembers how badly he’s wanted this, how his dreams have often been interspersed with images of him and Rey, those pleasant, warm, delightful visions that begin not terribly unlike this very moment.

Her chest is pressed against his, the skin of her hips and thighs soft and warm and everything he’s ever wanted. Poe gasps slightly, and his hands come up to catch her by the jaw and in the back of her hair.

“Rey,” he groans, surging forward. “Rey, fuck, sweetheart.” He feels her body respond to his, and it feels like victory at the same time it feels like drowning. Her hands never stray from his shoulders, but his drag down her sides. He’s about to ask permission to touch the swell of her lovely ass, when Rey speaks.

“Poe, stop.” He pulls his hands away quickly and ends the kiss fully, but Rey doesn’t shove him all the way away. “Poe, you just said that you didn’t want to do this, not five minutes ago. We don’t have to do this.”

The world tilts slightly, and his brain catches up with his body. She’s right. He isn’t even fully naked with her, and he’s already lost his mind.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly.

“Don’t apologize.” Rey is light, unforced in her response. “That was very enjoyable. But – maybe I could just hold you?”

Somehow – and 15- and 25-year-old Poe have no idea what now-Poe is thinking – that sounds better than sex.

They slip into bed together, and Poe lets his body relax into Rey’s arms. He knows she can see the scars from the whip on his back, but she kisses his shoulder much the same way he often kisses hers. Rey links her thin arms around his chest and snuggles into his back, pressing kisses into his skin indiscriminately while he sinks into the embrace.

“Goodnight, Rey.” _God, I love you._

“Goodnight, Apollo Belvedere.”

“You’re ridiculous.” _I love you so fucking much._

“I know.”

***

**

“GOOOOOOD MORNING! IS EVERYONE DECENT?” Kes Dameron’s voice roars from the hallway, his fist pounding at the closed door. Rey sits bolt upright, shrieking and holding the blanket to her chest.

“Dad! Fuck off!” Poe groans and sits up, wrapping an arm around Rey’s waist. “Sorry, Sunshine,” he mumbles into her shoulder, kissing it sleepily. “I’ll go murder him, if you want.”

“I made waffles!” Kes shouts, his footsteps retreating down the stairs.

“Don’t murder him, he’s useful,” Rey points out. Poe grumbles in agreement, but then he flops right back down onto his back.

“Poe! Waffles!” Rey pokes his stomach. She determinedly does not look at the scar that covers part of his lower stomach. It just – it looks like it _hurt,_ and it makes her want to cry _._ She wants to know what caused it. She doesn’t want to know what caused it.

She definitely does not want Poe to know she’s thinking about it.

“Come on, Poe!” Poe groans and covers his eyes with his arms.

“You morning people disgust me,” he informs her, his full red mouth set in a delectable pout. 

“It’s Christmas,” Rey says more softly, tugging at his elbow. “Let’s go spend Christmas together.”

“That’s not fucking fair and you know it.” Poe lowers his arm and fixes her with an intense, unreadable look. Rey giggles when he sits up, and then giggles harder when the blanket falls down, revealing more of the lower half of his body.

“Doesn’t look like you have any complaints, Major Dameron.” She coos, nodding at his very interesting problem.

“That’s just the morning talking,” Poe shrugs, clearly aiming for nonchalant and failing.

“Just the morning?” Rey raises an eyebrow. “Now I’m insulted.”

“Yeah?” Poe bites his lip. “Sorry, Miss Niima.”

“You’re forgiven.” Rey smiles at him. “And I think I have a solution that will make everyone happy.”

“You do?”

“Yep.” She lets herself pop the “p” obnoxiously, enjoying the way Poe’s pupils widen under her teasing. “Do I have your permission?”

“Completely and totally.” He’s smiling, but his voice is serious.

“How long do you think we have until your dad breaks down the door?” Rey asks, already leaning down to kiss his hip, enjoying the feeling of bare skin under her lips and palms.

Poe sucks in a breath while she continues to lick and kiss her way towards her destination. “I don’t know, uh – oh, shit – maybe five minutes?”

Rey looks up at him, deeply and incredibly amused by how wrecked he already looks right before she tugs his boxers down. “Challenge accepted,” she grins. She very much enjoys the way he bucks up uncontrollably when she takes him into her mouth without warning. The stream of garbled Spanglish is also quite flattering.

“That was three minutes,” she observes idly, wiping her mouth when she’s done, and Poe’s a collapsed heap on the bed.

“New record,” he cheers weakly. “My turn.”

Rey pulls out of his reach giggling at the same time Kes bounds up the stairs again.

“I’m going to eat all the waffles! Get dressed and come downstairs! Or no waffles! Final offer!”

“We’ll be right there, Kes!” Rey calls sweetly through the door, ignoring Poe’s squawk of protest. Kes shouts his happy acknowledgment of the promise, and runs back down the stairs. Bee barks from the commotion, nosing at the door.

“No,” Poe whines when his dad is out of earshot. “Sweetheart, I wanted you for breakfast.”

“Ew,” she wrinkles her nose. “Now, stop pawing at me, and don’t get in the way of waffles. Nothing is better than waffles.”

Poe sticks his bottom lip out and gives ‘pout’ a new definition. He looks so ridiculously cute, hair mussed and cheeks flushed, that Rey can’t help but give him a filthy kiss before going to brush her teeth.

Kes ignores their slightly disheveled state at breakfast because he’s kind like that.

***

They swap presents after breakfast.

Kes croons in delight when he takes his gift from Rey. “You are too good to an old man, my dear!” He laughs, slitting open the envelope. “You shouldn’t have!”

“Yes, I should have,” Rey smiles at him. She got Kes four French cooking lessons in Durham, a fancy master class he’d been wistfully raving about at Thanksgiving while she helped him prepare the turkey.

“You are sweet, _querida.”_ Kes beckons her over for a hug and kisses her on the cheek. “And what did my son get me?”

“Nothing.” Poe’s face is stoic. “Nothing for you.”

“ _Damelo,”_ Kes makes grabby hands, and Poe rolls his eyes before handing over his envelope.

“Oh, Poe.” Kes holds up the roundtrip tickets to Guatemala, good for any date.

“I figured we could go together, this spring.” Poe smiles bashfully.

“Thank you, mijo.” The men hug, both of them with tears in their eyes.

“Poe’s turn!” Rey cries. Kes chucks a box at his son, and Poe catches it laughing. He carefully unwraps the paper and folds it. “Poe, you don’t need to save the paper,” his dad scolds. “Just rip it open! He was like this as a kid, too,” Kes informs Rey, who grins back at him.

“I love it, dad,” Poe holds up a tweed jacket with leather patches on the elbows.

“My son with the big college job, needs a big college jacket!” Poe slips it on over his plaid shirt, and preens cheerfully.

Rey hands him her bag. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to use any of it,” she tells him nervously. Poe digs through and pulls out the leather notebook. “I saw that you were almost at the end of yours the other day.” Rey doesn’t know what Poe writes in his journals, but he always has one with him. He looks pleased, thumbing through the cream-colored pages.

“Thank you, Sunshine.”

“There’s more!” Rey nudges the bag with her foot. “Keep going!”

Poe pulls out a strap for his guitar case –  “So you can really lean into that rugged, worldly musician thing you’ve got going on,” Rey informs him – and then a small flat box.

When he opens it, Rey studies his face for a response. It’s a new dog tag for Bee, in the shape of a cactus.

“I smelted it myself,” Rey tells him. “Pulled in a favor at a local metallurgy shop. I used metal from some parts of an old plane that showed up in their scrap pile.”

“I love this.” Poe weighs the tag in his hand. “Really. I really love this. Thank you, Rey.” He gives her a watery smile, and then calls Bee over to attach his new tag to his collar, swapping out his old one.

“Your turn!” Kes shouts, grabbing a lumpy package from under the small tree.

“My turn?” Rey wrinkles her nose. “You got me a present?”

“Of course I did!” Kes hands it out to her, looking uncertain. “Why wouldn’t I?”

 _Because I haven’t gotten a Christmas present since I was ten years old,_ Rey’s mind suggests. And it’s true. She, Finn, and Rose have a patented ‘no presents’ rule on the holidays. They just buy booze and food for each other instead. “It’s just surprising, is all. Thank you, Kes.”

She unwraps the present shakily, and pulls out a warm, pink… hat?

“I knitted it myself!” Kes beams. Rey pulls the beanie onto her head and feels a warmth pool through her chest.

“Thank you. How do I look?”

“Beautiful.” Poe’s response is automatic, genuine. She smiles at him shyly. “Here, open mine.”

Rey takes the gift, a flat jewelry box, with an envelope on top. She opens the envelope, following the instructions on the outside, ‘read me first.’

It’s a hand-drawn card, a small doodle of Bee barking at a Christmas tree. Rey laughs at the likeness, and leans down to scratch the dog behind his ears. Bee rolls over for tummy scritches, and Poe takes over so Rey can keep opening her gift.

Inside the card is a certificate for something called “Cheese of the Month.”

“You really like cheese,” Poe says, ears bright red. “It’s uh – yeah it’s dumb.” Rey loves it. He’s right. Cheese is the best. This is the best.

“That’s romantic,” Kes hisses, leaning forward to whack Poe upside the head.

“That’s just the first part, Sunshine,” Poe taps with the flat package in her hand, and Bee nudges her arm impatiently.

Rey opens the box carefully and stares at the item inside. She lifts it gingerly, almost afraid that she’s not seeing it correctly, afraid that she’s interpreting this the wrong way.

It’s Poe’s other dog tag. It’s on a finer necklace than the one he wears, and it’s dangling next to a small metal icon of a corgi.

She looks over at Poe, and he’s beet red. She sees Kes in her peripheral, and he’s grinning at his son devilishly. “You don’t have to wear it,” Poe says weakly. “Seriously, I just uh—wanted you to have part of me with you, I mean, uh fuck, I just wanted ---”

“I love it. It’s wonderful.” Rey takes her new, favorite hat off and puts it down in her lap. The necklace goes over her head easily, as it’s a long chain, and it hangs down between her breasts, not heavy, but poignantly present in its weight. Rey stares down at it, an odd burning feeling of – pride? – in her stomach.

“Yeah,” Poe sounds strangled.

“Huh, what was that, oh, weird, my phone is buzzing.” Kes practically sprints down the hall to his room.

‘His phone is right there,” Rey wrinkles her nose at the coffee table where sure enough, Kes’s phone sits on a coaster. “Where do you think –” Rey becomes very, incredibly aware of Poe staring at her. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” He licks his bottom lip and then catches it between his teeth. “Yeah, oh.”

“Are you going to kiss me now?” Rey asks hopefully.

“Only if you want me to.”

Rey crooks her finger at him and suddenly she’s contending with 180 pounds of hot, eager ex-pilot pressing her into the floor. She really doesn’t mind.

Really doesn’t.

**

***

That night, back at his apartment, Poe undresses in front of his girlfriend, and breathes through the panic. It works. It actually works this time.

She smiles up at him, lying back on his sheets, her pale, still-freckled skin glowing against the dark blue comforter. Poe loses his voice when she reaches up to touch his chest gently, with his permission.

“What do you want to do?” She asks sweetly. Poe leans down to kiss her, reveling in the feel of her silk-smooth skin against him. _Everything._ He wants to do everything.

“Boxers,” he gasps out. She hooks her small fingers in his underwear and pulls, and Poe shimmies his hips to help her. He eventually kicks them off, awkwardly, and then resumes kissing Rey, finally,  _finally_ nothing between them. He kisses down the length of her body, memorizing the image of his tags around her neck, nestled in the valley of her breasts, and makes his way lower, lower, to where she’s hot and sweet and ready for him.

They don’t do everything, not yet. But they’re getting closer all the time.

God, he loves her. It’s the only thing that matters.

 

***

**

Rey visits the Solo-Organa household the day after Christmas. Poe had wandered off to help Chirrut with something, and she got several loud, demanding voicemails from Leia requesting her presence at dinner.

Ben picks her up, and he grins at her when she slides into the front seat.

“Hey, scavenger,” he says cheerfully. “Good Christmas?”

“Definitely in the top 10,” Rey answers. It’s probably the best she’s had since Ben Kenobi died. She smiles, appreciating that her newfound affection for the asshole next to her is in part due to his name. She’d been stunned to learn that Ben Solo was, in fact, named for Ben Kenobi.

_“He saved my mom’s life when she was a kid,” Ben shrugged, looking awkward in the dingy light of the diner almost two months ago. “He was a good man, from what I remember of him.”_

_“You met him?” Rey asked, curiously. “When?”_

_“He visited us, and we visited him a couple times before I turned ten.” Rey did the math, quickly. Ben was almost 12 when she came to live with Kenobi. “He always remembered every little thing about you, made you feel special. Then mom got really busy with her campaign, and dad retired from the service fully, and they sort of became focused on their own thing, you know? I missed him. A lot.”_

_“Yeah.” Rey played with her silverware. “Yeah, he’s easy to miss.”_

_“I’m so sorry,” Ben cleared his throat. “I’m so sorry they didn’t come back for you. I had no idea you even existed, Rey. Fuck, I was an adult by then. I could have helped, somehow.”_

_“I’m sure your parents didn’t know what was happening.” Rey bit her lip and looked down. Ben’s eyes were too intense on her face, even more intense than usual. “And don’t blame yourself. You were at college, and I’m sure you were very busy in your own right. I’m sorry that me telling you about this upset you.”_

_“Fuck, don’t apologize to me. Or anyone. You don’t have to apologize to the world for it not being kind to you, Rey. If I were you, I’d want to burn it all down.”_

_“I guess it’s probably a good thing I didn’t come live with you,” Rey laughed, needing something to do. “Imagine if you’d been my older brother. I would have gotten into even more fights, I bet.”_

_“Yeah, we would have been unstoppable, taking on the world, one asshole at a time. God, we woulda been something else, the Solo siblings.” Rey’s breath caught in her throat, and a tear escaped her eye. “Oh, shit, Rey, I’m sorry.”_

_“It’s okay,” she sniffed. “Really. I just. I’ve never really had a …”_

_“I get it, kid.” Ben looked at her fondly, in a way no one’s ever looked at her before, not even Poe. Poe’s fondness was always entirely born of something else, something of a different intent. Ben’s was half-that, and half-something that she’s desperately craved for as long as she can remember. “I really get it.”_

She and Ben argue about classic rock the entire drive over. Rey screeches when she finds the Best Hits of Journey album in the box of CDs on the floor of his car.

“No fucking way!”

“It’s from high school!” Ben desperately tries to grab it out of her hands, car swerving dangerously.

“Hands on the wheel, jackass. And I bet it is, Solo! You don’t get to sit there all high and mighty with your love for the Moody Blues when _this_ is in your car!”

Rey leans forward and slides the CD into the player and skips forward to the track she wants, grinning evilly at the driver.

“No, no, no, no!” Ben shouts.

“ _Don’t stop”_ Rey claps twice obnoxiously. Ben looks thunderous. “ _Believin’!”_

He sighs heavily and then yells, “ _Hold on to that feelin’!”_ his voice following the pitch of Steve Perry’s perfectly, despite being an octave lower. Rey cracks up, and then Ben even gives a rare, full smile. She swears she hears him release an actual laugh at one point, but she decides not to call him on it.

Her throat hurts by the time they reach his parents’ house, and she leaps out of the car still singing Journey.

“You gotta stop that, or Dad’s going to think it’s okay to pull out the karaoke machine.”

She snorts and heaves her backpack up behind her. “You hate karaoke? I guess I should have rethought your Christmas present.”

Ben stills, his hand on the roof of his car. “You got me a present?” He sounds disconcerted.

“Yeah!” Rey closes her door carefully and hefts her bag on her shoulder. “Don’t worry if you didn’t get me nothing, Solo.” She winks at him cheerfully, and her heart staggers when she sees him blush. Right. Things are still…awkward between them, even if she’d rather just put his flirtations ( _aggressive, unwanted_ flirtations) in the past.

“Rey! Ben!” Her embarrassment at having accidentally maybe encouraged Ben is cut off by Leia throwing the door open. “Get in here, you two! It’s freezing.”

“Actually, it’s 38 degrees,” Ben points out, shoving his hands in his pocket and coming around the front of his car. He gives Rey a sly grin, and she feels more at ease immediately, their strange moment quickly forgotten.

“You’re worse than your father, I swear to God. Hello, dear!” Leia holds her arms out, and Rey steps in for the hug, relishing the smaller woman’s embrace. She’s had multiple father figures in her life: Ben, and now Han. But Leia’s the closest she’s ever felt to _mother_. Rey smiles, her chin on Leia’s shoulder, breathing in deep the smell of perfume and baking and clean linen.

“Merry Christmas,” Rey says softly, blinking away powerful emotion when she straightens back up.

“Merry Christmas, Rey.” Leia squeezes her hands, and Rey’s scooped up into a bear hug by Han Solo.

Chewie barks at the lot of them while Rey laughs. “Merry Christmas to you too, Han!”

There’s a sound at the edge of the foyer, and Rey turns to face it when she drops out of the hug with Han.

A man Leia’s age with greying sandy hair is standing in the doorway to the kitchen. He wears a brown sweatshirt with no logo, and frayed khakis. Chewbacca trots over to lean against him automatically, but Rey can’t look away from his eyes. No matter how weathered or lined this man’s face is, there’s no denying the shock-bright blue of his eyes, the almost unbearable cleverness and spirit in them.

“Rey, this is –”

“Luke.” Rey finishes for Leia. “Luke Skywalker.” The man looks at her appraisingly, grief clear in his eyes.

“How do you know that?” Leia asks.

“I heard you talking to Han. In my hospital room, the day Ben died.” _Oops. Guess that’s out of the bag._

“You remember that?” Luke’s voice is just as gruffly kind as it is in her memories.

“I remember you fighting with a social worker. You and Han. You didn’t want me going to a stranger.” Her eyes are burning but she doesn’t look away from his.

“You know?” Leia sounds grieved as well.

“She’s known for a while, Mom.”

Leia pulls on Rey’s arm, so she turns to face her. There are tears in Leia’s large brown eyes when she says,“Rey, you need to know, it killed me that we couldn’t take you. But then they told us you were happy with your new foster family, and we didn’t want to disrupt your life further. When we heard you’d been emancipated at 17, what had happened to you –” Leia shakes her head and covers her mouth with a trembling hand.

“It’s okay, Leia, really.” Rey says soothingly. “There’s no way you could have known.”

“I just can’t believe you ended up here,” the older woman says, hand lowering once more. “Of all the places – right here, back into our lives.”

“The universe works in strange ways,” Luke comments thoughtfully. “And, I’m sorry too. I should have been there for you.”

“You didn’t know either, Mr. Skywalker.” Rey smiles at the man, who frowns in response.

“I should have tried harder to know.” He sticks his hands in his front pocket. “I should have stuck around to make sure I knew everything there was to know about you.”

Rey stares back at him, and a minute later, Leia ushers them into the dining room for dinner.

They eat and make small talk cheerfully for the first half hour, Luke chiming in here and there with thoughtful commentary, and Ben makes a few inappropriate jokes that has his father laughing, full and carefree. Leia fusses over Rey more than usual, making sure she has enough food, that her glass is always full, that she’s comfortable. Rey smiles at Leia and insists that everything is lovely. She catches Han’s eye over the ham in the middle of the table, and she smirks at him, expecting him to return it. Instead he smiles at her, and she’s surprised to see a tear caught in the corner of his eye. She’s quickly distracted by Senator Organa.

 “Tell us how things are going with your boyfriend,” Leia smiles at her warmly. Rey pointedly ignores the tension on Ben’s face. He’s been very polite about Poe in recent weeks, but she senses it’s a sore subject. Their banter feels more like the banter she shares with Finn, more brotherly than anything else now, but still. She knows Ben looks at her differently than he looks at most people; that was made all the more apparent on their drive over here. Rey elects to ignore it for now.

“Yeah, Poe Dameron!” Han laughs. “What a great kid. Almost as good a pilot as me.” Rey doesn’t miss the clatter of silverware when Han says Poe’s name; Luke’s dropped his fork on the table.

“Shara Bey’s son?” Luke looks deeply uncomfortable. “How is he?”

“He’s good,” Rey says. Her face flushes slightly, half at Luke’s obvious recognition of the name, half at the memory of Poe’s naked body aligned with hers, not even 24 hours ago. “He works at the campus library, and he’s a musician.” She smiles into her glass and avoids Ben’s eyes. When she looks down the table, Luke is staring at her, guilt buried in the lines of his face, looking like he’s just seen a ghost.

He excuses himself from the table ten minutes later, and doesn’t emerge in time for her to ask him why before she goes home.

***

Ben’s driving her back to her apartment when his phone lights up in the cupholder.

“I’ll get it for you,” Rey chirps.

Ben doesn’t say anything at first, but when she reaches down and grabs it, he says, “Wait, fuck – _no_!”

The Caller ID reads: Reginald Snoke.

Rey stares at the display, dumbfounded. “What the fuck is this?” She hisses. “Why is that _horrible_ man calling you?”

“It’s – I used to work for him, at the First Order.” Ben frowns at her and holds his hand out. She slaps the phone in his palm, and then crosses her arms over her chest defensively. Ben declines the call and chucks the phone over his shoulder into the backseat. She feels sick to her stomach for some reason.

“You ‘used’ to work for him? Do you still work for him? Tell me the truth,” Rey demands.

“I quit, okay? I quit a year and a half ago, after I saw what they did to your boyfriend.”

“What do you mean, what _they_ did to my boyfriend?”

Ben shakes his head and grimaces, but then his face tightens almost painfully. “Hang on. How do you know who Reginald Snoke is? Did Poe talk to you about him?

“No?” Rey’s heart is hammering in her chest. She needs to breathe, but she can’t take a full breath.

“How do you know Snoke?” Ben’s hands are tight on the wheel.

“He…he cornered me on campus a few weeks ago. He was waiting for me at my bike, right after class let out. He tried to show me a video of Poe, like a recruitment video?” She doesn’t mention the sickening video of Poe in recovery that immediately followed. She doesn’t like to think about that.

“Did he say why?” Ben’s jaw is clenched so tightly she’s surprised he can get the words out.

“He said he wanted me to talk to Poe about ‘reconsidering his offer.’ And then I considered killing him. You know. Normal conversation stuff.” Rey tries for light-hearted, but it falls flat between her and the bristling man next to her.

“He knew where to find you?” Ben barks. Rey lifts an eyebrow in confusion. “How did Dameron react to that?”

“He didn’t.” Rey shrugs and looks out the window. They’re almost at her apartment. “I decided I didn’t want to worry him.”

Ben’s hand is on her shoulder suddenly. “Rey, listen to me. Tell Poe you saw him. Please.”

She looks over at him, and his face is agonized in its earnestness.

“Okay,” she promises, slowly dragging out the vowel. “Can I ask why?”

“You can ask, but I might not answer. You’ll have better luck with the pilot. I can’t believe –“ he cuts himself off with an angry noise. “We’re here.” He screeches to a halt. “Go right inside, and do not stop until you’re in the apartment, okay?” He twists around and grabs his phone. “I’m going to make a call, and I can’t do that until I know you’re inside, safe.”

“You’re scaring me,” Rey admits, quietly.

“I don’t want to scare you, scavenger.” Ben’s gaze is heavy on her face. “Please call Poe. Tell him that you met Snoke. He needs to know.”

Rey nods. She grabs her backpack off the floor of the car. “Thanks for the ride home, Ben.” He grunts in acknowledgement, already thumbing through his contacts. “Merry Christmas.” Rey leaves his present on the seat as she gets out of the car.

“Merry Christmas, Rey.” Ben hefts the gift in his hand, phone forgotten for a moment. Then he looks up, and his eyes are burning with something unnamable. “Get inside. Now.”

“Bossy,” Rey grumbles before slamming the door shut.

She tells herself it’s just the residual tension from Ben-Drama Queen-Solo that makes her feel imagined eyes boring into her from the bushes on her way up the steps. When she lets herself in the apartment, she remembers that there’s no one here with her tonight. Finn and Rose don’t get in until tomorrow.

Paranoid panic swamps her senses briefly before she takes a steady breath. She isn’t going to call Poe. She isn’t going to freak out. Rey Niima has had a lifetime of practice in protecting herself, and in being alone. She can handle one night by herself.


	17. Honesty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben tells Poe to go to Rey; Rey and Poe talk; Rey has a nightmare and wakes Poe up; Rey and Poe (ahem) get closer;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, I fussed over it and then I was writing something else, but here it is, imperfect as it may be. 
> 
> Rating: Big Ol' E
> 
> Warnings: So much smut; oral sex (both parties); shower friskiness; implied ejaculation onto a partner; dry humping; dirty talk (and in that, Poe refers to lady parts using an impolite word in Spanish, and we have the return of his slight dom! streak)

Poe exits the bar around 21:00, after Baze came to collect Chirrut and the impossibly tipsy Dr. Erso.

“ _Hey, hey, Poe,” Jyn slurred, tugging at his sleeve before Baze lifted her off her stool._

_“Yes ma’am?”_

_“Ugh. Always with the ‘ma’am.’ I’m only 27 years older than you.” She hiccupped. “Fuck that’s actually a lot of years. Anyway. You told that girl you love her yet?”_

_“No ma’am,” Poe admitted softly. “Not yet. Don’t want to scare her off.”_

_Jyn gave him an unreadable look, already allowing Baze to lead her towards the door. “Don’t wait too long, Poe. Or you’ll scare her in the other direction.”_

_“What does that mean?” He’d hollered after her before sighing. Seeking advice from a drunken historian. That’s going to help a lot, Dameron._

The cold air of late December greets him when the door to the Cantina swings shut.

He turns to walk to his car, Bee already trotting towards it, when he sees a familiar figure.

Ben Solo is walking towards him on the sidewalk. Poe snorts quietly, remembering how Rey had described him back at the Resistance, months ago: “ _he spends his nights stalking new victims to feed on_.”

“Funny seeing you here, Major Dameron.” It must be a sign of his burgeoning friendship of Rey that the title doesn’t sound like an insult in Ben’s mouth.

“Solo.” Poe regards him as politely as possible.

“I figured you’d be at Rey’s by now.” Ben quirks his eyebrow at him. “Or were you not concerned?”

“Concerned about what?” Poe asks, immediately on edge.

“About what she told you?” Ben looks genuinely confused, and when he sees the confusion mirrored on Poe’s face, he gives a sigh best described as long-suffering. “Goddamnit. Just. Call her.” Ben shakes his head. “Stubborn woman.”

Ben folds his arms over his chest and raises his eyebrows as if to say, _well?_ Poe grits his teeth and pulls out his phone. Rey’s the last person he called, so he just hits redial and waits. He gets tired of looking at Ben’s face, so he turns his back to him, and begins to kick at his front tire well.

It rings several times, and it goes to voicemail. “Fuck,” Poe swears.

“She didn’t answer?” Ben asks.

“No, and I’d honestly rather not have an audience for this,” Poe snaps. Ben makes no sign of moving, so he rolls his eyes and dials again.

The phone rings, and Poe pointedly ignores Ben some more. Finally, the other end of the line picks up, and his heart starts beating again, painfully.

“Rey?” He speaks when he doesn’t hear anything besides breathing. “Rey, are you okay?”

“No.” The word is quiet, unsure. “Poe, I don’t feel good.”

“I’ll be right there, sweetheart.” He looks at Ben, still beyond confused about what he was talking about. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

“No. I need to tell you something,” she whispers. “And I don’t think you’re going to be happy about it.”

 _She’s going to leave you. This is it._ “Okay.” He nods, throat horribly dry and tight now. “Okay, Rey, you can tell me when I get there.” _You can break my heart when I get there, just let me see you one last time._

“It’s about Snoke,” she says, voice cracking. Poe almost drops the phone in his surprise.

“I’ll – I’ll be right there.” He hangs up and stares at his door. “What the fuck?” He lifts his eyes to Ben’s face. The other man looks deeply unhappy.

“Just talk to her. I swear. You two.” Ben shakes his head and shoves his hands in his pockets. “Please ask her to text me when you’re done talking.”

Poe agrees without thinking and gets in the car. He refuses to let himself think for the entire drive over.

***

Poe pounds on her front door fifteen agonizing minutes later.

“Who’s there?” She asks, voice quavering.

“It’s Poe.” He hears the deadbolt sliding open – and they never use the deadbolt, _what on earth?_ \--  and Poe bounces on the balls of his feet anxiously until the door opens all the way.

Rey’s eyes are red like she’s been crying for some time. “Sweetheart,” he says, stepping forward automatically. “What happened?”

She shakes her head, disconsolate, and he sweeps her into his arms without asking anything further about it. Rey trembles, and he holds her closer. They sway in the foyer, the light of the hallway shining on her hair, washing over it like a halo.

After a while, his curiosity gets the better of him; and the desire to get her comfortable, warm, and safe. “Let’s sit,” he suggests. “Your bed or the couch?”

“Bed.” Rey wipes her eyes and steps out of his arms. She locks the deadbolt again, and then the other lock, and she grabs him by the hand to lead him to her room.

Poe closes the door behind them softly, and Rey goes to stand next to the bed. She shifts nervously on her feet, hands rubbing together.

“I haven’t been honest with you,” she begins softly. Poe stiffens, his hand on the doorknob still. “But you haven’t been honest with me either, I think.”

“What did Ben tell you?” He asks, more harshly than he intended. Poe strides forward until he’s in front of her.

Rey shakes her head and holds out her hands. He takes them without hesitation, and they sit on the bed together.

“I don’t want this to be a fight, my love.” It’s sad, really, how easy he goes down, how easy he lets go of his anger when he hears her call him that. “I need to tell you about something that happened a few weeks ago. But first, I want you to tell me what you know about Reginald Snoke.”

Poe grits his teeth and stares at the floor. _I don’t need to answer that,_ his brain snarls. At the same time, he thinks, _Rey is not the enemy. She needs to know._ “He’s the CEO of the First Order,” he starts with the easy information. “And he approached me a few weeks ago, asking me to come work for him. I had some run-ins with FO when they were running contracts with the Air Force. Flew some planes for them then; I was the only one who could get the test runs working. After I got back last year, they were the ones who studied my brain, who asked me a lot of questions about what happened. It uh. It wasn’t pleasant. Anyway, right around my birthday, Snoke came to me and said they needed my help to test pilot some new planes. I refused, and I haven’t really heard from FO since.” _Because I haven’t picked up the phone or listened to their voicemails, to be fair._

“Okay.” Rey nods, thoughtfully. “Okay. I can see why you wouldn’t tell me that.” _But I should have, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have hidden it from you. Not when your safety was at risk. Your safety is the only thing that matters._ “This part might be hard to hear – Ben thinks you’ll be upset, but maybe he’s overreacting?”

It always comes down to Ben fucking Solo, doesn’t it?

“What is it, Sunshine?” Poe squeezes her hand and smiles at her reassuringly. “I won’t be mad at you, I promise.” _Even if you signed a First Order contract for my soul with my blood, I’d probably find a way to thank you for it. God, that can’t be healthy._

“So, I left class before Thanksgiving,” Rey starts. She sounds so, terribly nervous, and Poe leans in closer, offering her his shoulder to lean on non-verbally. She rests her head on it and sighs heavily. “I—I didn’t want to worry you, you know? And you hadn’t told me anything about it, so I figured you didn’t want to talk about it, and…and I’m still so bad at people, so I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what, Rey?” Poe’s dying on the inside, but he’s proud that he manages to sound calm, supportive, and not like the raging tornado of anxiety that’s actually ripping through him.

“He showed up,” she whispers. _Who?_

Poe’s afraid he knows exactly who. He waits for her to keep talking, hoping she doesn’t feel every muscle in his body lock down in tension.

“Snoke.” His worst fear, immediately confirmed. Great. “He was just waiting for me at my bike, and he knew my name, and he knew we were dating. He—he showed me a video of you from when you were a pilot. And you were so, so good at it, darling. I’ve never seen anything like that.” Once upon a time, such praise would have made the cocky flyboy in him preen. Now, he feels nothing but dread. “Snoke told me that I needed to convince you to reconsider his offer. He said you’d be…happy? that we met.”

Poe is many things; he is definitely not happy. “That fucking son of a bitch,” he whispers, rage rising in his throat. “That fucker just –” He stands, abruptly, and Rey jerks back in surprise. Poe begins to pace, anxiously, tearing at his hair. “Snoke? Fucking Snoke found you? He just knew where you were?”

“Yes.” Rey bites her lip and doesn’t look at him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you mad, I didn’t want to hide anything from you, but I didn’t see any good in worrying you.”

“Worry me?” Poe’s incredulous. “I’m certainly worried now, sweetheart.” She flinches at the endearment used in anger, and he’s immediately remorseful. Poe kneels at her feet and holds his hands out, slowly, gently. Rey takes them begrudgingly, and after a moment, looks him in the eyes. “Rey, sweetheart,” he says in a much kinder voice. “I’m not mad at you. Not at all. I see why you didn’t tell me. God – let’s just – let’s promise not to hide things from each other anymore. I can’t believe that fucker talked to you. I can’t believe he got close enough to you –” Ben’s confusion at seeing Poe out and about this evening makes total sense. He’s never leaving Rey’s side ever again. His stomach roils at what could have happened to her if he wasn’t here, if she was here by herself. Accidents happen all the time, he knows. First Order has the power and resources to make accidents happen.

“Don’t worry about me,” she cups his jaw in her hand. “I can take care of myself.”

“You can, you definitely can,” Poe agrees, wanting to tread lightly but also ensure she understands how fucking dire this is. “But Sunshine, not even you can fight the entire First Order by yourself. It’s a massive company, connected to just about every branch of the military and government imaginable. I – I can’t let myself think about what could happen to you if I don’t do what they want.”

“Nothing’s going to happen to me.” Rey sounds pissed now. “Honestly, you and Ben should form a ‘We Expect Rey Niima To Just Keel Over and Die So We Can Have a Reason to Freak Out’ club."

Poe surges upright, and before he knows it, she’s lying back on the bed, and his body is curled over hers protectively. “Don’t say that,” he growls. “Don’t joke about dying.”

“I’m sorry,” she looks frightened, and he feels like a beast. He moves to pull away, but she wraps her arms around his shoulders. “I didn’t think – I’m so sorry, love, I didn’t meant to joke about dying.”

Oh. She’s not scared of him. She’s scared _for_ him, scared of what he’s lost, scared of what losing her might do to him.

Poe realizes that he’s crying, and he flops down on the bed next to his girlfriend, and they roll into each other as much as possible. “No, I’m sorry,” he sobs. Poe clutches at her in a way that he’ll find time to be embarrassed about tomorrow. “But fuck, sweetheart. You can’t die too. Not you. They don’t get to take you from me.”

Rey kisses his tears away ardently, running her hands over his face, his neck, his shoulders. She kisses him and soothes him, whispering reassurances in his ear. Poe clings to it like a drowning man, and once he’s calmed down, they just hold each other. He isn’t sure who falls asleep first, but he welcomes the warm nothingness of sleep, trying to escape the endless rat maze inside his head as he tries to figure out what to do about Snoke and the First Order.

**

~~

_Rey’s in a large room full of airplanes – a hangar, she realizes. To her left is Reginald Snoke who smiles at her grimly, blood in his teeth._

_“Just look at what your pilot can do.” His taloned fingers reach out and grip her chin, forcing her to look upwards. A plane moves in a dazzling formation, cutting through the air in a way that Rey inherently understands is only possible in the hands of Poe._

_The plane flies for interminable minutes, Rey forced to watch every moment of it, and eventually it loops back around and comes back to the hangar, landing gear extended._

_The canopy hisses open, and Rey knows that she has no desire to greet the pilot inside. Her mind whispers to her not to look, not to investigate. **Don’t,** it begs her. **You don’t want to see.**_

_“Go on, look,” Snoke chides her. “Look, you little rat. Look at what you’ve done.”_

_Rey refuses, but Snoke reaches out and grips her with a strength that should be impossible. She turns to rip her arm away, but it’s no longer the CEO of First Order – Unkar Plutt has her by the arm._

_“All you’re good for is hurting people, rat,” he snarls. “Now look.” He heaves her forward, dragging her to the cockpit while she struggles and screams at him._

_He pulls her by the hair until she looks down, eyes watering._

_Poe Dameron’s handsome face is sunken, his eyes no longer bright. He looks the way he did in the video Snoke tried to show her: broken, unreachable._

_He is dead, and it is her fault._

~~

Rey feels a howl of pain torn from her throat, and a hand is on her shoulder, shaking her.

“Don’t touch me!” She screams, throwing her arm out. It’s caught, not by the meaty fist of Unkar, but by the strong, clever fingers of her boyfriend.

Poe stares at her, wild-eyed, half-awake.

“Rey?” He croaks.

“Poe,” Rey gasps. “I’m so sorry – I thought you were someone else.”

“No kidding.” Poe releases her arm automatically, and sets it down gently to rest at her side. “What was the dream about?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing good. Nothing you need to hear.”

“Okay,” he nods, accepting her answer for now. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Kiss me,” Rey begs. She needs to feel him alive, needs to feel his body against hers, needs to know he’s right here with her. She’s half-awake as well, and this might not be the wisest decision, but she wants him. That part isn’t complicated.

“Are you sure?” He looks concerned.

“Please,” she says, tugging him closer by his black t-shirt. “Please, I just need you close right now.”

He surrenders with a groan, and soon he’s hovering over her, balancing on his hands while his tongue explores her mouth, firmly stroking inside in a way that has her wanting other points of contact, other pleasant intrusions.

“Can I take this off?” Rey asks timidly, pulling at his shirt.

Poe sits upright slightly and looks at her, considering. “Yes,” he says after a moment. “Yes, I – I’d like that.”

He closes his eyes while Rey tugs the shirt off and over his head. Next is the tank top he’s wearing as an undershirt. He’s so, so handsome, and she tells him.

“You’re unreal,” she breathes. “You can’t possibly be real. You can’t possibly want me.”

“Have you seen you?” Poe laughs anxiously. “You’re perfect, sweetheart.”

Rey rolls her eyes, but accepts his request to rid her of her own shirt. Soon it’s a flurry of movement as they finally rid themselves of every possible layer except for their underwear.

He looks her in the eyes as his thumbs catch the elastic. “Okay?” He checks, because he always does.

“Yes.” Rey squirms her hips for emphasis. “Yes, please.” Poe pulls the fabric over her legs, and soon she’s tugging at his boxers, asking the same question. He agrees as well, and then his entire body is pressed, naked, against hers, and bliss is the only feeling she knows, her nightmare easily forgotten in the heat generated between them.

His cock is hard and hot at her hip, and his leg comes between hers to press against her, to give her friction where she needs it. She bucks and gasps shamelessly into his mouth: she can’t possibly remember or imagine the things she says to him, but she knows it’s enough to drive him wild, judging by his powerful reaction.

Rey holds nothing back, except her knowledge that she loves him.

**

Poe worries briefly that he’s hurting her, he has to be hurting her, but Rey’s nails dig slightly into his shoulders, and she gasps, “Yes, Poe. Yes.” So he keeps thrusting blindly against her hip, his thigh grinding mercilessly against her burning hot center.

“You’re so fucking wet. Is that for me?” He asks, his voice deeper, rougher than normal. He doesn’t recognize it.

“Yes,” Rey answers breathlessly. She arches her back and twists her hip slightly so his cock experiences the most intense friction that his mind can recall feeling. “Yes _sir.”_

“God, you’re perfect.” Poe braces his hands on either side of her face and kisses her deeply, his tongue thrusting into her mouth, Rey’s fingers tightening into his skin. “So pretty,” he declares after pulling away to mouth at her collarbone.

“ Me? ‘m not pretty.” Rey shakes her head, even as she whimpers from the drag of his leg against her clit.

“You’re so pretty,” Poe argues. “You’re so pretty, so good for me. Such a good girl.” Rey moans outright at the endearment, and Poe continues to roll his hips on top of her. “Such a good, pretty girl. You feel so nice, sweetheart. So fucking good for me. Your,” he licks his lips nervously – how much dirty talk will she want? – “Your _coño_ feels like heaven, sweet girl. Wanna bury myself in you, get fuckin’ lost in you.”

Rey shakes underneath him, thighs quaking, and he dives down so he can suck on the skin under her ear. Rey’s hips buck against the muscles of his mid-thigh, and Poe leans into it, hoping to increase the friction, increase the pressure where she needs it most.

“You close, sweetheart?” Poe asks, tossing sweat-dampened curls out his face. God, he needs a haircut. Well, he thinks that until her small hand comes to his hair and _tugs_ the right way, the right edge of pain, and he howls, almost losing control right then and there.

“Fuck, Poe,” Rey moans. “Yes, I’m close, I’m so fucking close, but I need—”

“What do you need?” He grins at her, admiring the way her skin’s flushed, from her cheeks to her chest, her shoulders and neck. Rey’s glowing underneath him, and _he_ did that. He made her look like this. He can make her feel good. He’s almost lost at that thought alone. Poe can make her feel good; he can be good for her.

“Need more,” she whimpers. “Please, Poe, I need more. Please.”

She sounds almost upset, and that just won’t do. Poe’s never been one for delaying pleasure in his partners, not to the point of discomfort. It’s not his style. Why put off their orgasm when he can just help them have another, and then another?

“Can I eat you out?” He asks earnestly, thumb rolling her rosy nipple. “Please?”

Rey nods furiously, her hands bracing against the headboard while she grinds against his thigh. He pulls away so he can kneel between her legs. “Good girl,” he praises, kissing sloppily at her hipbone, and then over her pelvis, down her inner thighs. Rey’s fingers come to rest in his curls. “You can pull my hair,” he tells her, smiling against the juncture of her thigh. “I might even ask you to fuck my face, if you’re up for it.”

“That’s a thing for girls?” Rey asks curiously, suddenly sounding the scientist that she is. She sits more upright to observe, bringing herself closer to his mouth by accident. Poe laughs at her, his sweet, beautiful girl.

“It’s definitely a thing. But here, let me do the work for right now.” Rey manages to whimper her confirmation of the plan before he dives in, not even bothering with teasing her. She throws her head back with a loud moan, her weight still resting on her elbows while he licks into her. He’s racing towards his own release just picturing it: her thighs clamped around his head while she comes so deliciously around his tongue and fingers.

It only takes a few minutes before her back arches further, and Poe works her through it, awed by the noises she makes, the way she tightens around him.

Rey lies back down when she’s ridden through most of it, her body still shivering from the aftershocks. “That was nice,” Poe comments, laughing and wiping his face with his free hand. He’s so unbearably close himself now, and he has half a mind to just rut against the sheets until he finishes, so blissfully happy between her legs, when he hears her sniffle. “Rey?” He’s immediately on edge. “Rey, was that not okay?” He gently pulls his fingers out of her, wipes them on his leg and scoots up the bed so he can see her face.

Rey’s crying, and holy _fuck_ he did hurt her, didn’t he? He’s a monster, he’s never deserved her, he should be in jail. “Rey?” He croaks. “Please talk to me.”

“It’s not your fault.” It sure feels like it’s his fault. “That was nice. Just…intense? And I’m – I’m so scared Poe. I’m so scared that he’ll hurt you.”

Snoke. This is about Snoke, and their conversation last night.

“No,” he shakes his head and wraps his arms around her. He lies down next to her and pulls her towards him so she’s half on top of him. “Rey, it’ll be fine.”

“No it won’t,” Rey sniffs. Her face is pressed into his chest, and her slender fingers scrabble blindly for purchase on his collarbone. Eventually she hooks them around his ring, and Poe pulls her closer to him, kissing her hair, hand sliding up to grasp her smaller one. “I don’t want you to leave. I’d die if something happened to you.”

Poe’s chest tightens unbearably. _That’s my line._ “Nothing’s going to happen to me. I won’t leave you.” He pulls their entwined hands towards his mouth, and begins to press light kisses into her fingertips. “I swear, sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere. Not until you tell me to leave.” He’s about to tell her he loves her, _it’s happening now_ , _he can’t hide it a second longer_ , when she bursts into fresh tears, and then he’s crying, too.

 _Get your shit together, Dameron._ Somehow amidst all the crying, they start kissing again, and he presses her back into the mattress, rolling on top of her effortlessly. Eventually, they separate and Poe nuzzles into the curve of her shoulder and neck, whispering promises to her.

Rey fidgets after a few minutes, and then she giggles nervously.

“What?”

“I just – I’m a little gross from earlier.” _Right_. “I think I need a shower.”

“Got it, sweetheart.” Poe rolls fully away from her and smiles at her peacefully, tears still burning at the back of his throat. She stands and stretches lightly, her face wrinkling slightly in disgust from whatever she’s feeling between her legs.

“Would – can you join me? Maybe?” Rey looks so damn hesitant it about breaks his heart.

“Yes ma’am.” Poe’s up in a flash, and tugging her by the hand to lead her to the bathroom.

They had just been crying, but now they’re giggling, caught up in the feeling of each other, the strange, vulnerable joy of bathing together. Poe runs the water while Rey’s hand plays on his stomach. His muscles jump under her gentle touch, and it definitely is ticklish this time. He roars in laughter and goes to retaliate; Rey jumps away, shrieking, into the spray of the shower.

She stands under the water, her hair beginning to stick to her forehead and neck, and Poe can only stare. She’s perfect, and lovely, and waiting for him. He climbs in after her, and they cling to each together. His chin slips down to rest on her shoulder, and he smiles at her contented sigh. Eventually, they part to wash their hair and bodies, and Poe dares to snag the washcloth from her so he can run it over her body slowly, carefully, tenderly, the way he’s dreamed about for months.

Rey’s body responds to his attentions, and he responds to her soft sighs and bitten-back moans. His erection catches on her lower stomach, ready to go again. He’d never finished the first time, not that he cared, but Rey’s hand slips down his stomach, tracing a path to the thatch of curls around the base of his cock.

“Is this okay?” She asks over the sound of the shower.

“Yes,” he answers, tilting his head back in bliss until it rests on the cool tile. “Yes, Rey, please.”

Her hand is the only thing he knows until she kneels down and then it’s her mouth _and_ her hand, and holy fuck this is too much, it’s all too much, he never expected to be here, in a shower, completely naked with the woman he loves bringing him to total ecstasy. He taps on her shoulder frantically, trying to signal to her that he’s about to finish. Rey pulls off and continues fucking him with her fist. Poe shudders and cums with a shout; Rey makes no move to get out of the way of it.

Poe stares in disbelief, and the shower quickly washes away the evidence. But, he knows that picture will be burned into his brain until the day he dies. He takes special care to pick her up off the floor and help her get clean again, carefully, telling her sweet things and praising her, and they’re both altogether very warm and very pink by the time they shut the water off.

Rey giggles and wraps a towel around herself. Poe grabs another one, ties it around his waist, and when Rey wanders off to get a glass of water, he goes to the bedroom to throw on a pair of sweatpants.

They snuggle on the couch, Rey wearing his shirt, her long, glorious legs thrown over his lap, and he rubs circles into her ankle. She dozes off around 08:30, and he spends long minutes admiring her peaceful beauty.

“I love you,” he practices softly. “I love you, Rey.” He has half a mind to shake her awake and tell her in earnest, when there’s a knock at the door.

Rey mumbles something in her sleep, and Poe smiles, setting her legs back down on the couch while he stands. He’s aware that he’s just wearing sweatpants, but she’s in his shirt, and putting his jacket on will be just as obvious as not covering his torso at all. Shrugging, he pulls on the tank that he’d worn under his t shirt yestersay, and he goes to the door and pulls it open, prepared to collect a package or maybe startle a neighbor who needs to borrow something.

Instead, he’s faced with a ghost.

Specifically, the ghost of Luke Skywalker, the man he’d almost died for last spring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, the plot is coming quickly now. 
> 
> (Big warning: next chapter has some serious #angst and a pretty big cliffhanger. Be careful reading the warnings on the next one!)
> 
> Also, fun fact; last night and this morning I wrote a 12k word Jane Austen AU Damerey fic. It's basically done. Do you want it? Y/N.
> 
> Thank you as always!


	18. Fall Fast, Fall Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey wakes up to find Luke Skywalker having an uncomfortable conversation with her boyfriend; Poe leaves, and Rey is left to talk with the errant Skywalker, and he delivers some shocking news; Rose and Finn come home; Rey and Finn go for a walk when several unexpected things happen; ends with Ben POV
> 
> Check the tags if you have bad experiences with car accidents!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: biggest warning is spoilery, and below the ~~ signs. It deals with car accidents, and will give the circumstances and outcome (but not the character) if that's something that could upset you! 
> 
> Warnings with less spoilers: Two characters vomit, not described graphically. One character is hit by a car and experiences a head wound and a broken arm, as well as other unmentioned injuries. They remain conscious the whole time, and no bloody anything is described (b/c this isn't Bound to the Light and I'm not dialing up the angst/pain that much)
> 
>  
> 
> another warning: she and Finn discuss her and Poe's intimacy. Finn gives some advice that you may or may not agree with! Remember, he has Rey's best interests at heart, and neither character is a therapist.
> 
> ~~~~~~~  
> Warning: character is walking on street when a car (accidentally, but one character wonders briefly if it was on purpose) jumps the curb and hits them. Character is injured, but not critically, and they will be fine! Promise!

Rey wakes up to a whispered argument. She sits up, confused, on the couch. _Where’s Poe?_ She realizes that he’s one of the people speaking in an elevated whisper in her front door. Rey peeks over the edge of the couch, and she feels her eyes bulge when she sees Poe talking agitatedly with Luke Skywalker.

“Mr. Skywalker?” she asks blearily, over the back of the couch. Both men stiffen and turn to look at her.

“Hello, Rey.” His voice is soft, and his weathered face loses some of the tension he’d had a moment ago. Rey’s shocked to see him, but even more shocked to see Poe standing with no sleeves covering his arms in front of a stranger.

Maybe not a stranger. She remembers Luke’s strange reaction to Poe’s name last night – was that really only last night? The hours have blurred together, from the stress and the fear, the raw open honesty and the intense intimacy she and Poe had shared.

Which reminds her: Poe’s in his tank top because she’s wearing his shirt. And nothing else. She hadn’t even bothered with underwear, not when Poe was so damn excited at the prospect of her wearing only his shirt, nothing else, which made things easier “in case she wanted to go for a third.”

She really wishes she’d avoided the temptation now. Rey squeaks and pulls a blanket over her lap. Poe smiles at her tightly and walks away from the door, jerking his head to indicate that Luke should come inside. Mr. Skywalker walks in nervously, and toes his beat-up sandals off near the door as Poe closes and locks it.

“I’ll just—” Rey wraps the blanket around herself tightly and shuffles to her room. She takes off Poe’s shirt carefully and pulls on a bra and sweater quickly. Rey’s just stepping into her underwear when her door opens. She yelps and falls backwards onto her ass.

“Poe, goddamnit, I thought you were Luke!”

“Sorry, Sunshine.” Rey’s about to tease him some more, but the look on his face – it’s empty. There’s absolutely no expression on his face; it’s as if someone had wiped it clean of any sign of Poe Dameron.

Rey yanks her underwear the rest of the way on and stands shakily to walk to Poe, his shirt in her hands. “Darling? Are you okay? Is this about Luke?”

Poe takes the shirt from her without saying anything and pulls it on. “Says he needs to talk to you. Wants to talk to me too, but. About something different. Not a good idea right now.”

“Okay,” Rey nods. “Okay, I’ll ask him to leave, that should be easy enough. I only met the man yesterday, I don’t owe him anything.”

“No.” Poe’s voice is flat, and although they’ve only been dating four months, and she’s only known him for six, she knows instinctively that this isn’t a good thing. “No, don’t kick him out on my account. I uh. I have to go to therapy, anyway.”

Well, at least he’ll be talking to someone. “I’ll text you when he leaves.” Rey holds her arm out, hoping for a kiss, and Poe hugs her stiffly.

“See you,” he mumbles before walking out her bedroom door. Rey follows him after putting on a pair of corduroys, and she pops out into the hallway just in time to see Poe toeing on his shoes, Bee an anxious wiggling mess at his feet. Poe picks the dog up after opening the door and walks out without another word. Rey’s heart thuds in her chest, and she’s suddenly very suspicious of Luke Skywalker. What is it about him that would make her sweet, funny pilot shut down so quickly? What did he say to him?

Luke turns to face her, and she gestures wordlessly at their sofa. He settles into the seat, and she sits across from him in the worn-down armchair they’d stolen gleefully from a dumpster last year. She’s fairly certain there aren’t mice living in it. Anymore.

“So, what brings you here today, Mr. Skywalker?” She asks, curiosity getting the better of her.

“I came to give you something.” He shifts awkwardly, and she winces when his bright blue eyes land on her face.

“And to upset my boyfriend?” She can’t help it. Rey’s a caustic person. Always has been. She’s really only sweet to Poe, Finn, and Rose. She doesn’t understand why everyone keeps insisting she’s a nice person.

“That was not my intention,” Luke looks deeply uncomfortable. “And before you ask, I won’t tell you why I know Poe Dameron. I met him when he was a child, worked with his mother for a time. But that’s not why you saw that reaction today. No. That was something else. And that is his story to tell you.”

Rey nods, accepting his explanation for now. “Alright. I’ll wait for him to be ready, then.” She fidgets her hands.

“And I’ll wait for you to be ready,” Luke says softly. She looks at him, confused. He pulls an envelope out and taps it nervously on her knee. “Not for what I’m about to give you. I planned on giving this to you years ago, but I uh—I got caught up overseas. This is yours, always has been. No, I’ll wait for you to be ready to talk about Ben Kenobi. That man was my closest friend and confidant for years. We went through a lot together, and even though I hadn’t seen him in eight years when he died, I still kept in contact with him, weekly. It killed me to not be able to help you. He loved you so much, Rey.”

“I loved him too,” she whispers, not moving to wipe the tears from her face. She’s cried enough over Ben Kenobi to not be ashamed of her grief for him. Luke pulls a pack of tissues out of his pants, and Rey takes one, smiling awkwardly. She dabs at her eyes, and Luke waits for her to compose herself. The silence isn’t awkward; it feels natural, calm. She assumes Luke has this effect on people.

“Can I ask why I didn’t see you after the funeral?” She asks Luke when she feels brave enough to keep talking.

He looks guilty, sad – haunted.

Rey knows that look. Poe gets it all the time. But nothing about Luke Skywalker says “soldier:” the pieces just aren’t adding up.

Luke tugs on his beard and says, “I left the country a year after Kenobi died. I’ve been overseas since.”

“Oh.” Rey doesn’t ask where he went. She assumes it was somewhere unpleasant, to make him look so exhausted, so beaten down. And a dark, anxious part of her assumes that he was exactly where Poe was. _Maybe that’s how they know each other._  

“Oh.” Luke huffs, his face sliding briefly into a smile and then back into calm repose. They sit in silence for another minute, and Rey doesn’t fidget, not even once. Of course she doesn’t; the two of them are speaking volumes into the quiet. Thousands of stories fill the air. One day, she might be able to understand his, and he might be able to hear hers.

“Here,” Luke hands her the envelope. “This has been sitting around, for you. Ben didn’t complete the appropriate legal papers to get it in your name before he passed, but he always told me he wanted you to have it.”

Rey looks at him confused and slits the envelope open. She pulls out a check.

Her eyes stare, seeing but not understanding, at the writing.

It’s a check attached to Luke’s bank account. It’s addressed to “Rey Niima,” the memo reads, “From Ben,” and the amount is…

It’s for 250,000 dollars.

“What?” She whispers. “What the fuck?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said,” Luke laughs. “Ben liked a simple life. But apparently he got a shit ton of money for doing various jobs throughout his career as a pilot, and then as a private hire. He did it for fun, he said. The money was just extra.”

“But…” She and Ben had never gone hungry, and she hadn’t wanted for anything when she lived with him. New shoes, always when needed; new clothes, always, when the season changed. She’d assumed he was comfortably wealthy, but – “He lived on a dirt farm, for fuck’s sake.”

“Yeah. Yeah, he was weird that way.” Luke grins fondly, and he sobers quickly again. A habit of his, she thinks. “Look, kid. This money can’t make up for what happened to you. But Kenobi wanted you to have it. Take it, cash it. Or don’t. Maybe you want to frame it. It doesn’t matter. What matters is, it’s yours, the way it always should have been. No strings attached.” He looks at her imploringly and ends with, “But maybe, you could think about forgiving a foolish old man who should have been there for you.”

“I don’t think that will be that hard,” she wipes fresh tears from her eyes. “I mean, as long as you keep cutting me checks like this, I assume we’ll be best friends in no time.”

Luke laughs, really laughs, and it sounds rusty, but it also sounds like warm sunlight upon a field, and Rey wants to hear it again.

“I’ve probably taken up too much of your time,” Luke says abruptly, standing up and brushing off his pants nervously. “I’ll stop bothering you.”

Rey looks at the clock. Sure enough, she does have somewhere to be. “You aren’t bothering me, but I do have work at ten,” she tells Luke feebly. “I need to leave now if I’m going to make it.”

“I can drive you, kid.” He smiles at her, and she returns it with only a little effort, still shaken from the ease with which this man has just changed her life. “It’s the least I can do.”

“You hand me a six figure check, and giving me a ride is suddenly a big favor?” Rey grins at him fully now.

“Yeah, what can I say. I hate people.” She doesn’t believe that, somehow.

The car ride over is only interrupted when they simultaneously shout at a pedestrian who jogged into the street without waiting for their light. They don’t talk about it, but they do exchange twin, knowing smiles.

Luke Skywalker is alright, Rey decides.

She just wishes she knew what happened with him and Poe.

***

Exhausted as she is after Luke’s conversation and her half-shift at the coffee shop, she still doesn’t have to fake her excitement when Finn and Rose sprint into the apartment, Finn flying through the door first screaming “SHE SAID YES!” and Rose smacking him on the shoulder laughing.

“I wanted to tell her!” Rose doesn’t sound nearly as upset as she could; her face looks too bright with happiness.

“You should have run faster!” Finn grabs her left hand and holds it towards Rey. “See? Look at that! It fit her and everything!”

“I should hope so, we only visited the jeweler five times,” Rey laughs. She hugs Rose and Finn at the same time, beaming at the ceiling while they encircle her. “I’m so happy for you two!”

“Be my best man!” Finn shouts at the same time Rose screams, “Be my maid of honor!”

“Oh!” Rey steps back and regards them with amusement. “That’s a pickle.”

“There’s going to be an Agni Kai,” Finn declares, squaring off against his fiancée, fists raised playfully. “Battle at dawn for the honor of Rey as our attendant!”

“You’re on, Trooper!” Rose puts up her own small fists, and jabs at his ribs. “Fight to the death!”

“If you fight to the death, there won’t be a wedding,” Rey points out idly, sitting on the back of the sofa and grinning at two of her favorite people.

“That’s a fair point. Kiss instead?” Finn asks Rose. She smiles and nods, and Rey makes a teasing gagging noise while they embrace.

“Oh come on, you make out with Poe all the time!”

“Not in front of you two,” Rey protests. Her stomach roils at the thought of Poe. He’s been at the back and front of her mind all day. His reaction this morning was so unsettling – and he still hasn’t responded to her texts or even the phone call she felt brave enough to make after her shift.

“We know when you’re doing it though,” Rose crows.

Rey smiles at them both, and they chat about the Disneyworld trip until Rose remembers that she needed to go down to The Resistance and run the numbers for the week.

“We were closed for three days, how many numbers can there be?” Finn asks incredulously. Rose pinches him and makes a face, and Finn relents. “Here, let me do it! It will be my honor as your fiancée.”

“Hmm.” Rose tilts her head, considering. “Okay!” She kisses him on the cheek and bounds to their room to unpack.

“I’ll go with you,” Rey offers. “I need to get some fresh air, anyway.”

They head out the door five minutes later, and while they walk to the coffee shop, Rey feels Finn’s gaze on her face.

“You feeling okay?” He asks a few minutes into their walk.

“Yeah,” Rey sighs. “Just some – some weird shit. I’ll tell you later. Don’t wanna steal your thunder or nothin’”

Finn jabs her playfully, and Rey swats him. He’s the only person who can touch her without warning; she doesn’t really know why. Maybe because he’s sunshine personified; maybe because a lot of the shit that happened to them was so terrifyingly similar, her soul sees a twin in him.

Regardless, Finn smiles at her, having caught her attention. “I wouldn’t care if it was my actual wedding day, Rey. If something’s upsetting you, I want to hear it.”

She gives in. She tells him about Snoke, about Poe and Luke’s standoff in her apartment, about her perpetual fear that she and Poe may never have sex the way she wants to. Finn nods and listens the whole time, breaking in at the right points with noises of indignation, mutual confusion, and finally, thoughtful consideration.

“Look, I know Poe is probably the hottest person any of us have ever met – but, you shouldn’t be too weirded out if you never have penis in the vagina sex, you know? Like, not every heterosexual couple does that. It doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with him or you. And don’t take this the wrong way, but we share a wall. I know that you aren’t … _not_ having sexy fun with the pilot.”

“Yeah,” Rey laughs briefly. The Resistance is only a block away; she’s been talking for almost half an hour. “Yeah, I guess so. But, I really want to, you know? And I know why he doesn’t want to right now, but it’s – I don’t know, it makes some small part of me – a part that won’t get on the same page as my brain, because my brain totally understands why we haven’t had sex yet --  wonder if I’m at fault, that he’s not interested in me that way.”

“Honey, he’s interested in you in every way.” Finn grabs her shoulder supportively, and Rey covers it with her own gloved hand. “But if it keeps bothering you like that, you have to tell him. You need to air that shit or you’ll resent each other. Trust me, I’ve ruined enough relationships in my life to know what causes rifts. If you want to have that kind of sex, and he doesn’t, it doesn’t mean anything’s wrong with either of you. You just might not be a perfect fit.”

Rey winces at the idea of being with anyone other than Poe, but she nods. Finn might be right. He isn’t always, but he makes logical sense.

She drinks a mug of Earl Grey while Finn pops into the office to run the report for the last seven days. Connie’s on shift, and she and Rey make idle conversation until Finn re-emerges twenty minutes later.

“Done!” He declares. “We are free!”

“Thanks,” Connie says sarcastically. “Go. Be free. Leave me behind.”

“Love you, Connix!” Finn shouts, already out the door. Rey lingers long enough to wave at her friend before following Finn out the door.

They get maybe half a block before they almost crash into a familiar figure.

Ben Solo is standing awkwardly in front of a pizza parlor, scowling at the menu as if it had insulted his family’s honor.

“Ben!” She calls from twenty feet away. Finn stiffens next to her.

“No, Rey. I get that you’re friends now, but I am not going to pay tribute to His Dark Lord,” he hisses quietly.

“Behave,” she hisses back. “I’m going to invite him back to the apartment. He’s lonely, and I think he’s going through some shit. And he’s trying to help Poe, I think.”

“Fine,” Finn sighs and plasters an outwardly authentic smile on his face. Only Rey could tell that it’s fake.

She introduces the two, even though they’ve definitely met, during his lurk-at-the-coffee shop-and-terrorize-the-barista phase. Rey invites Ben to walk back with them, and he shrugs and accepts.

Finn’s eyes alight upon Ben’s t-shirt that peeks out from underneath his heavy black peacoat.

“You a big Chelsea fan?” He asks excitedly.

“What? Oh. Yeah, I mean, I used to have season tickets when I lived in London at my last job.” Rey wasn’t aware that he’d ever lived in London.

“That’s so fucking cool!” Suddenly Finn’s smile isn’t faked. _That was easy_.

“I guess,” Ben shrugs nonchalantly.

“You guess? They’re one of the best teams, in the best sport in the world!”

“Would you really say best sport?” Ben asks quizzically, not realizing his error until it’s too late. Finn gives a full-body shudder, and Rey decides she wants to watch the fireworks.

She spins on her heel and stalks backwards down the sidewalk, watching Finn and Ben bicker. Finn shouts something about soccer, and Ben’s eyes are rolling into the back of his head when he responds.

Finn roars, “What the fuck you mean hockey is the superior sport?”

“You ever seen the blood on the ice after a match? It’s poetry.” Ben sighs and presses a hand to his heart mock-romantically.

“God, you’re a psychopath! I knew it!” Finn grins at him good-naturedly, and Ben returns it, hands in his pockets, hair hanging bashfully in his face. She realizes that he may not have a lot of friends. This is good for him, and good for her. Finn is good for a lot of people. She feels lighter than air, suddenly.

Rey’s thinking that maybe things will be okay: parts of her world can collide and they won’t fall apart. She can be friends with Ben, and still be close to Finn and Rose, while dating Poe and finishing her Master’s. Ben Kenobi’s money was unexpected, and it is a slightly uncomfortable weight in the pocket of her backpack, but it undeniably opens a lot of opportunities for her; hopefully Poe won’t mind where it came from, especially if it means she doesn’t have to work or stress about money anymore. Life may just work out in their favor.

She’s still thinking that, walking backwards and grinning at Ben and Finn, when a car jumps the curb, and suddenly the world is made of pain and she doesn’t remember what she was thinking about, and _God who’s that screaming_ , and she realizes she’s lying on her back, half in and half out of the street, vision fuzzy, ears ringing.

**

Both Finn and Ben freeze in shock. Rey had flipped clear over the front of the car, and her body – _she,_ Ben corrects himself – she is lying just out of sight, her legs visible, most of her torso hidden by the car.

“Oh my fucking God!” Ben screams. “What the fuck?” This is Snoke’s doing, he knows it. How could he have planned this? This is impossible even for him – Ben’s thoughts spiral rapidly, trying to make sense of this, trying to do anything that’s not looking at the prone form lying beyond the front of the car.

Finn grabs Ben’s arm. “Give her a second, dude. Rey, you alright?”

A shaking hand comes around the hood of the car and waves at them weakly. “Did I stick the landing?”

“You sure did!” Finn shouts back, starting to walk forward. Rey gives them a thumbs up, the digit peeking over the car.

“Oh my _fucking_ God,” Ben moans, yanking his phone out to dial 911. He looks at the driver, half-expecting to see Armitage Hux calmly smoking a cigarette and surveying his handiwork.

No: it’s a teenager, scared shitless and clearly hyperventilating, tears in his eyes, hands clutching at the wheel so tightly Ben can see they’re white from pressure from ten feet away. No one’s that good of an actor. This was an accident, through and through.

“So I guess you’re alright,” Finn says off-handedly, hands in his pockets while he looks down at Rey, who Ben cannot see. He’s not sure he wants to see her. Ben describes what happened the second the dispatcher picks up.

“Obviously,” he overhears Rey saying, somehow sounding sarcastic after doing battle with a mother _fucking_ car. “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah, don’t get up, jackass. You could have a spinal injury.” Finn snorts, nudging her feet with his own. “Can you feel that?”

“Yes?” Rey answers. Ben’s staring at the street sign, rapidly giving the address to the dispatch officer, when he hears Rey ask. “But should my arm really look like this?” Ben looks up in time to see Finn turn around and vomit.

“Nah,” he says, wiping his mouth. “Nah, it really shouldn’t. But fuck, that’s pretty cool.” He pulls his phone out and takes a picture. “That’s going on my Snapchat, sorry.”

“Fuck you!”

Ben pinches the top of his nose with his free hand. “Please hurry,” he grits into his phone before hanging up. Then he walks forward to inspect the damage himself.

(He vomits, too, and Rey laughs at both of them. It’s hysterical, but he counts his blessings that she’s laughing at all.)

Ben smacks the phone out of Finn’s hand when he tries to take another picture of the strange angle of Rey’s arm. “You’re going to need an ambulance if you keep it up, Trooper!”

“Come on, dude, I have a photo album just for her injuries!”

“Yeah, Ben. He’s going to give it to me on my wedding day.”

“I don’t even – why are you two like this?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully you take the continuance of Rey's good humor as a sign that she'll be okay (because she will be. This plot twist is A. a nod to the most-likely maiming one of the main characters is bound to experience in episode IX, and B. a reason for these silly muffins to start talking to each other more). Also, I know it's medically unlikely she'd be fine, but Rey is probably indestructible, right? The Force would protect her from something like this, I hope.
> 
> (Also, Me: aggressively continues to use lyrics from "Ambulance" in my chapter titles because I'm trash and that song is half-romantic, half-terrifying, just like this fic)
> 
> Next chapter summary, full chapter up tomorrow: We get Poe's therapy session where he breaks down a lot of his reactions from recent events with Mothma; and he'll get the news about Rey's accident, and then he'll rush to the hospital. What was that? You haven't put down your pitchfork yet? Here's a preview, a little snippet, of what's to come in tomorrow's chapter!
> 
> (mid-Chapter 19, Rey POV):
> 
> "“You don’t have to sleep here, Poe. I know you hate hospitals.” She doesn’t really mean it though, not when his warm body feels so nice pressed up against hers, blankets be damned.
> 
> Poe stares at her heart monitor when he says, “Fuck that. I’m not leaving until you leave.” He doesn’t look away for several long seconds.
> 
> “What are you staring at?” Rey laughs, turning to examine the monitor as well. “You’ll be able to hear if anything changes. I might not be a doctor, but I have seen every episode of Grey’s Anatomy, and I can confidently inform you that there will be a very loud, drawn-out beep when I die.”
> 
> “Don’t say that,” Poe’s hand cups her jaw and drags her face to look him in the eyes. He looks like a dying man, eyes burning with something powerful, something that makes her squirm because how could she ever make a man like Poe Dameron look like that? “Please don’t even joke about that, Rey.”
> 
> “Okay,” Rey nods, and covers his hand with her own, ignoring the light tug from her arterial line. “I’m sorry.” She’d say more to reassure him, but her head is starting to actually hurt.
> 
> Poe makes a sound suspiciously like a whimper and kisses her. It’s the first time she can remember him kissing her without asking for permission, but she doesn’t call him on it, not when she doesn’t mind. 
> 
> “Rey,” he heaves out when they separate. “Oh fuck, Rey, you can’t die.” He pets her hair, and tries to smile at her, tears in his eyes. “Please, baby, don’t leave me like that.”  
> ~~end preview~~
> 
>  
> 
> Also, the first half of [Force and Fortitude](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14116890/chapters/32527821) is now up! Regency Era level angst ! I promise no one is harmed in that fic (although it might not always seem that way)!


	19. My Kingdom for a Kiss Upon Her Shoulder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe has therapy and he gets bad news; Poe rushes to the hospital; Rey accidentally confesses something; Poe waits by Rey's side so he can take her home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning 1: Poe has an intense therapy session, and recalls wanting to hurt someone when upset. 
> 
> Warning 2: Fairly clinical discussion of injuries
> 
> Warning 3, big warning: Doctor with no tact wrongfully accuses Poe of domestic abuse.

Dr. Mothma had been kind enough to reschedule his appointment today, a Thursday. He knows it’s partly because he had a massive relapse after Christmas last year, the stress of the holiday and the absent figures at the table proving too much. As he walks into her office, he sends a fervent thanks into the universe that she agreed to see him today because the ghost of Luke Skywalker was not something he was prepared to confront.

He’s still not feeling fully human. Poe wonders what Rey thought after he left her so abruptly. He can barely remember what he said to her; he’s surprised he said anything at all. Even robotic, clipped phrases like the ones he fed her are an improvement. A year ago, he probably would have just screamed, cried, broken something, all while having a flashback bad enough to land him in the hospital.

“How are you today, Major Dameron?”

Poe shakes his head. “Been better. How was your Christmas?” He mumbles, hoping to prolong the inevitable.

“Excellent. My children came into town.” He didn’t know she was a mother. Almost a year as her patient, and he doesn’t know that. God. “And how was your holiday, Major?”

“Christmas was great, really. A lot better than last year.” He doesn’t finish the thought. He knows she’ll call him on it; Mothma always seems to know when he’s hiding something. She’s either terrifyingly astute or he’s terrifyingly transparent. Maybe both.

“Do  I need to ask specific questions, or will you just start with something good, and then you can pick something bad to talk about?”

That’s an easy enough game. “We can do that. Um. I took my clothes off in front of Rey. I had a panic attack the first time, but it went well, all things considered. We tried it again later, and that went well too. She even took my shirt off herself yesterday.” He shakes his head in wonder. Poe never thought he’d be dissecting what’s left of his sex life, excited at the prospect of a girl taking off his shirt, examining his feelings on the matter with a woman twice his age in a warm but sterile office, but here he is. “It was incredible, to be that close with someone, you know? Rey was – she was so supportive and patient. I don’t deserve her.”

“Major. I’ll give you a chance to correct that before I do.”

“Fine.” He casts about for a way to phrase this better. “I am so unbelievably grateful that she wants to be with me because I can’t imagine my life without her.”

“Good,” Mothma accepts this. “Good save. That is remarkable progress, Poe. You should be very proud of yourself. And I, for one, am happy that you have a partner who sounds supportive. You should expect nothing less from others.” He nods, jerkily. “Do you want to pick another good thing, or move on to a not-so-good thing?”

“Luke fucking Skywalker showed up at my girlfriend’s apartment today.”

Mothma stares at him in shock. She clearly had not been expecting that. She schools her features quickly and nods once, indicating that he should go on.

“That went over like fifty tons of shit.” Poe shakes his head angrily. “He wanted to talk about Afghanistan, but he said he could wait. The guy – I lost friends because of that guy, you know?” _Tallie. Riva. Starck. Blario. Muran. God, Muran._ “And for him to just show up, healthy as can be, on my doorstep.” Poe slams his fist into his leg. “Especially after the fucking night I had.”

“What kind of night did you have, Major?” Mothma asks, concern between her eyes. “Also, may I remind you that your leg is not an enemy combatant. I suggest you not strike it.”

Poe stretches his hand out, and then sighs, deciding that sitting on his hands might stop him from doing any damage while nervous.

“So, this guy –” and he doesn’t name him, because he doesn’t want to say the name, and he doesn’t need to say the name to talk about how fucking enraged he was last night. “This really sketchy guy wants me to come work for him, yeah? And he showed up a few weeks ago, and I blew him off. Turns out, he got to Rey. Like, knew where she had class, when she had a break, details about her life. He cornered her and tried to get her to talk to me for him. She didn’t, obviously, and I had to find out from one of her friends that he’d found her because she didn’t want to upset me.”

“There’s a lot there, Major. First: that sounds serious. Do you want to inform the police that someone’s stalking your girlfriend and possibly you?”

 _I’m not entirely sure he doesn’t own the police, too, Doctor._ “No, no. He’d duck that pretty quickly. I uh, I actually want to talk about how I felt when I found out.”

“How did you feel, Major?”

“Well, I felt pretty shit that my girlfriend didn’t want to tell me about a creep harassing her. Maybe she was worried about what I’d do.”

“Why would she be worried?”

“Uh.” He hasn’t told Mothma about Rey’s violent past, but he had told her about his reaction to something she’d said at the Thanksgiving after-party. “So, remember a few weeks ago when I told you I seriously thought about killing someone?”

“Yes, and you also mentioned that the man in question was dead, and it was only a passing thought. We did an evaluation, and if you recall, you did not in any way indicate that you were actually in danger of hurting yourself or others.”

Poe nods, weakly. He wonders if he would have passed that same evaluation in the moment, back at the party.

_“When I was 16, my foster father got into a bar fight. That was a common occurrence for him.” Poe stiffened on the couch next to his girlfriend. He had assumed she’d tell the story of how her foster father had almost beaten her to death with a fucking wrench. How much shit had he done to her?_

_He continued to listen, in increasing horror, as she described being stabbed, the cruel neglect foisted upon her after. He listened to how she’d been dragged to a bar as a child, forced to fight to save her foster father’s sorry ass, harassed by adults, shat on by the system, fucked over by life in every way possible._

_He listened, and he got angrier and angrier, until red bled into his vision, and a roaring filled his ears. He had felt like this few other times in his life._

_Poe wanted to find the man who did this to her. When she led him to the hallway to talk, concerned for him as always (he’d thought maybe she developed an ability to read minds, had seen the rage and the fury and the darkness swarming his thoughts) he thought about the man – Unkar Plutt, a fitting name for a monster –, and he considered walking out of the party, getting in his car, and fucking driving to Arizona. Do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars, until he found himself, somehow, on that man’s step, and beat him to death with his bare hands. Or a wrench. Or anything really – it sounded like he had been more than creative in the ways he hurt Rey. Poe would delight in being more than creative in taking him apart, to give him a taste of what he’d done to this precious woman. This woman who had been a **child** , who had deserved kindness and love, just like every other child in the goddamn world. _

_Then Rey stared at him with her luminous eyes, and he’d confessed it to her, how badly he wanted to kill Plutt. And instead of pushing him away, disgusted, or running from him, she’d given him this:_

_“You’re a good man, and I don’t even want you to think something like that. I’m okay – I’m fine, Poe, I’m fine now. And I’m here, with you. Please don’t ever think you need to hurt someone for me. That wouldn’t do anything. I’ll still be hurt, and you’ll have…you’ll have sacrificed part of what makes you so good for me.”_

_And she’d saved him, like she always did. Always does. He knew then, and he knew now. He loves Rey Niima. And he does not deserve her._

He remembers that Mothma is waiting for him to talk. So, he says, Rey’s words still echoing in his ears, “I considered being violent to keep the guy away from her. And, I want to be a good man for her, I do. But I’m so fucking afraid that I don’t know how to unlearn the violence. I don’t know how to forget the anger, the urge to destroy something, how helpless I felt from my inability to save them." He doesn't need to explain 'them' to Mothma. "It terrifies me, sometimes, that I can’t protect her. I don’t know how to protect her without being violent. I can’t lose her.”

“You won’t be able to heal if you keep thinking like that, Major,” Mothma’s voice is gentle but firm. “You cannot protect Rey from the world. You can just help her face it, just like she helps you face it. That’s what it means to have a partner.”

He notices that his phone is vibrating furiously from its place on the table. Poe thought he’d heard it before, but now Bee is pawing at it anxiously, and whips his head around to stare at Poe as if asking _are you gonna get that?_

“Sounds like it’s important,” Mothma says gently, nodding at the phone.

“Yeah, but we have thirty minutes left, doc. I don’t wanna be rude.”

He can wait. He can. He opens his mouth to ask Mothma if she agrees with him, if she thinks he’s stable enough to finally, finally have sex with Rey, when his phone buzzes, once, angrily.

“Let me just turn off the vibrate, at least,” Poe grabs the damn thing and turns it over to see the screen.

There’s the series of texts from Rey he hasn’t brought himself to respond to, texts where she asks if he’s okay, why did he run, how does he know Luke, is he okay, does he need help, she cares about him, she just wants to help him, she’ll leave him alone if he needs that.

Poe swallows the guilt, and looks at the call log.

One phone call from Rey, around an hour and a half ago that he’d ignored, if only because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to pull himself away from her voice in time to make his appointment.

But that’s not why his phone was buzzing. There are four missed calls from Finn in the last two minutes, two short voicemails.

 _Huh._ “I think maybe I promised to pick Finn up from the airport?” Poe says out loud, feeling Mothma’s gaze on his face. “I’ve forgotten shit like that before.”

“Everyone has, Poe.” Mothma reminds him. Poe smiles at her, and goes to check the voicemail.

But the screen lights up before he can. “He’s calling again – are you sure it’s –”

“Answer it, Poe.” Mothma waves a hand, unbothered. “I’ll pause the timer.”

“Thanks.” Poe smiles at her and swipes his thumb across the screen. “Ello? Finn?”

“Dameron.” Ben Solo’s deep voice reverberates across the line. “Where the _fuck_ have you been?”

“Why the fuck do you have Finn’s phone?” He snaps. _Finn’s hurt, oh god, Snoke got Finn, holy shit._ Mothma leans forward, concerned. “Where is he?”

“He’s in the ambulance.” _Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck._

“Did you call Rey?” Poe asks, standing up.

“What? No – did you check your voicemail?”

“No, I didn’t check my voicemail, you called me – tell me what’s going on, and then hang up and tell Rey if you haven’t already.” _Finn’s her brother, if anything happens to him, it will hurt her so badly, oh fuck._

“I don’t need to tell Rey shit, pilot.” Poe opens his mouth to shout at this fucking asshole, when Ben snarls, “She’s the one who needed the ambulance, you impossible fucknut. She got hit by a car. Get your ass to Duke Regional, now.” The line goes dead, and white noise fills Poe’s ears.

***

“Where is she?” Poe gasps, skidding to a halt in the waiting room, in front of a petrified Finn and an angry Ben. He sees Rose at the front desk talking to someone, her hair in a messy bun, wearing pajama pants decorated with the Star Trek Enterprise. He focuses on the spaceships for longer than he should, honing in on the small detail while panic continues to roar in his chest.

“She’s in surgery.” Ben answers, and when Poe drags his eyes over, he sees Solo giving Finn a concerned look. Finn looks pale, sweat shining on his brow, eyes darting around the room while he rocks back and forth, slightly.

Rose walks up to them. “She’ll be okay, you guys, really. It could have been a lot worse.”

Poe stares at the small woman in disbelief. “She’s in surgery, Rose, how could it have been worse? Is she – was she conscious after? Did she hurt her head? God fucking damnit, how did this happen?” He knows he’s shouting, and he knows he should stop himself, but he can’t, not when the woman he loves is lying under a surgeon’s knife, not when she could have – she could have.

He still isn’t quite sure how he managed to drive here, but he’s sure he broke multiple laws. He can’t even remember if he parked in an actual spot or not. Poe heaves for breath, half from anxiety, half from his poorly healed ribs and side, which still find a way to bother him almost two years after the shitshow that killed his friends.

“Breathe, Dameron.” Ben’s standing in front of him, not scowling, but looking legitimately concerned, the way someone would look at a friend. “You can’t help her when you’re like this. Breathe.” Not the healthiest idea, but he clings to it. _Breathe for Rey. Breathe so when she wakes up, you’re here, and not in a psych ward, again._

“Rey’s doctor said she’d come update us after the surgery started. It isn’t going to be a long one – they just need to put screws into hold her arm together.” Well, if that’s fucking all.

Poe had screws in his leg last year, after.

After.

It’s 2018, he reminds himself furiously. It’s 2018, it’s almost 2019, and the woman he loves is _not_ dead.

“When can I see her,” he whispers. He needs her. Fuck, he needs to see her. Desperation curls in his throat, dragging more tears to his eyes.

“When she comes out of surgery,” a small woman has appeared in front of them. “You’re here for Rey Niima, correct?”

“Yes,” Ben answers for all of them. “What can you tell us?”

“Well, it really should be delivered to her emergency contact –”

“That’s me, Finn Trooper,” Finn sits up. “I’m her emergency contact. I have power of attorney; it’s me”

“Are you related to Ms. Niima?” The doctor doesn’t sound rude, just curious.

“Yeah,” Finn nods. “I’m her brother.”

“Okay, then.” The doctor shrugs. “Do you want to do this in private.”

Poe will fucking put his fist through their fucking tacky pink walls if he has to wait to hear about Rey for another goddamn minute.

Finn clearly understands this because he shrugs. “I don’t think Rey would mind if anyone here knew what was happening.”

Ben nods. “I can at least assume she has a broken arm,” he comments drily. Finn has the audacity to _snort,_ and Poe stares at him in disbelief. Laughing? While Rey could be dying? Laughing with _Ben Solo_ when Rey could be dying? Then he remembers that Ben had been present when the accident had happened, and had been thoughtful enough to try to call Poe several times in a row until he pulled his head out of his ass and picked up. Maybe he shouldn’t hate Ben Solo quite as much.

“Well, I missed all of it, so if you could start from the top, that’d be great.” Poe says.

“Ms. Niima has a concussion, for starters,” the doctor begins. “We performed a CT. No hemorrhage, but we’ll continue to monitor, and scan again after the surgery to make sure nothing moved while she was under. Luckily, she was talking when she got here, and she was fairly lucid. No signs of brain damage.”

“That’s good,” Poe says weakly. He wonders briefly if he should be sitting down for this, but Ben is standing, so he’ll stand. Rose perches on the arm of Finn’s chair and strokes his head. Finn leans into it, and Poe’s glad they have each other. “She was talking?”

“Yeah, and making jokes. But you missed the worst part.” Finn looks ashen under his dark complexion. “They had to perform traction on one of her bones. She had to be awake for it.”

“Fuck,” Poe hisses between his teeth.

“She’s a remarkably brave young woman,” the doctor comments, barely looking up from her records. “She didn’t even scream when the orthopedic set the bone. Not a single sound. I’ve never seen that kind of reaction to that amount of pain.”

 _That’s not bravery,_ Poe thinks weakly. _That’s just experience._

“They’re repairing some of the damage in surgery right now. The screws will stay in for three to six months, depending on how she’s doing at her check-up. The splint can come off after six weeks, which is about how long it will take the fractures in her ribs to adequately heal.”

The doctor continues, “She broke four ribs on the left side of her body. Ms. Niima will have to stay on pain medication, at least for the first three weeks, to make sure she’s breathing properly. Any breathing complications can, of course, lead to pneumonia, so the four of you will need to make sure she does not demonstrate any signs of loss of breath or faintness, and I encourage you to keep her from physical activity for as long as possible.”

“Hear that, Dameron,” Finn mutters, nudging Poe. “No physical activity. Keep your hands to yourself.” Poe swats him, actually angry at the suggestion that he would in anyway hinder Rey’s recovery from an inability to keep it in his pants. Finn catches the expression and apologizes quickly. “Sorry, dude.”

“Are you her boyfriend?” The doctor looks at Poe, sternly.

“Yes, ma’am.” Poe stands up straighter, feeling oddly nervous. This can’t be good.

“Can I speak to you in private?”

“Um.” He really doesn’t want to, but he follows the doctor around the corner. She looks at him, cold fury in her eyes.

“Maybe it’s best you stay away from Ms. Niima while she heals.”

“Oh—God, ma’am, Finn was just being silly, I won’t have any problem at all not doing anything… of that nature with Rey until she’s better. Honest. I swear.”

“Mhm.” The doctor taps her chart against her hand. “To be honest, Mr… Dameron? Was it?” Poe nods, stomach seething from nerves. “I have half a mind to call the police right now, if I thought your girlfriend was willing to make a statement.”

“What?” Poe feels confused and so, so anxious. He breathes as steadily as he can. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the multiple badly healed rib fractures we saw on her X-Ray. I’m talking about the radial fractures on her wrist – and, I’m sure if I scanned her other wrist, I’d find them there too. I’m talking about the dozens of scars, all of various ages, on her body. Now, I have no way of knowing how old some of those breaks are, because apparently,” The doctor waves the medical record around, “she didn’t always seek treatment for them. But if she gives me _any_ indication that you did that to her—” The walls are closing in around him, he’s sure. Poe wants to defend himself, to declare that he’d never do that to Rey, or any woman, he isn’t _like_ that, goddamnit, isn’t that what all the therapy is for? But he can’t speak.

“Whoa, doc, that’s way outta line.” Finn has appeared, miraculously, from around the corner. “Sorry, I was going to get a soda for Rose, didn’t mean to eavesdrop, sort of glad I did. But doctor, trust me, I’ve known Rey for years; she and Poe met six months ago. He didn’t do that to her. She had a bad childhood – most of those fractures are at least seven years old, which I’m sure you know if you checked her juvenile records. And Rey is a human disaster – the newer ones were accidentally self-inflicted, usually when I dared her to do something stupid. I swear.”

The doctor doesn’t release the tension in her shoulders, but she nods. “Okay. I’m sorry, Mr. Dameron, I just. I see a lot of abuse cases come through here, and hers seems to be especially egregious. And as for her juvenile records,” she adds, looking at Finn, “it’s not uncommon for young women who were treated poorly as children to seek out partners who treat them poorly as adults.” Poe nods, weakly, chest still heaving from anxiety.

“Yeah, doc, we get it.” Finn grabs Poe’s shoulder, and while usually unwanted touch freaks Poe out, it manages to be grounding from Finn. “But this guy is a fucking war hero, who loves my best friend more than life itself. So, if you don’t mind, please don’t accuse him of fucking domestic abuse. If I thought he were hurting her, I’d take him out myself. Excuse us.” He glowers at the doctor until she walks away, unembarrassed but understanding her cue to exit.

“Fuck, man, that sucked. Glad I walked up when I did. You okay?” Finn’s hand is still on his shoulder, and Poe focuses on the point of warmth leaking through his jacket and shirt. He nods again, still voiceless.

“You sure?” Finn looks disbelieving.

“Yeah,” Poe rasps, sucking in one last desperate breath. “Yeah, let’s go get that soda. And I’m fine. I’ll be better when we see Rey.”

“Okay, buddy.” Finn leaves his arms around Poe’s shoulder on the walk to the vending machine. He’s incredibly grateful that Finn ended up in his life.

**

When Rey opens her eyes after her drug-assisted nap, she sees Poe sitting in a folding chair, exhaustion lining his face. The dark outside the window tells her it must be nighttime, and Rey makes a small sound of discomfort as she tries to adjust, her legs tired. When she tries to move, her back flares in pain, and then her ribs, and of course, her head. Rey groans a little louder, and when she tries to lift her hand to her head to cradle it, she realizes it’s been set in a heavy cast.

“Don’t move,” Poe whispers, rising out of his chair, anxious and hovering. “Please, Sunshine, don’t move.” Rey nods once, and lies back onto the bed.

“Can we go home?” She asks, throat scratchy.

“Not right now, sweetheart.” He’s crying. She doesn’t know why. “You just had surgery, you have to stay here for a while. They wanna make sure you’re going to be okay.”

“Makes sense,” Rey mumbles. Fuck, her head feels like she shoved it into a pillow. A pillow full of bricks. Yeah, Niima, great metaphor.

Poe’s still crying.

“What’s wrong, darling?” She doesn’t want Poe to be sad. She loves Poe.

“I thought I’d lost you,” Poe scoots towards the head of the bed and leans his forehead against hers.

“I’m right here,” Rey says, wanting to touch more of him, frustrated by the limited range of movement allowed by her current injuries and the monitoring equipment. “Come here.”

With some very clever positioning, they both squeeze onto the narrow mattress. Poe’s insistent on leaving the blankets piled up around her body, refusing to slip under the covers with her. He’s also painstakingly careful about not disturbing any of the wires that attach her to various machines, despite Rey’s assurance that she’s fine, and they’re only monitoring her overnight.

“You don’t have to sleep here, Poe. I know you hate hospitals.” She doesn’t really mean it though, not when his warm body feels so nice pressed up against hers, blankets be damned.

Poe stares at her heart monitor when he says, “Fuck that. I’m not leaving until you leave.” He doesn’t look away for several long seconds.

“What are you staring at?” Rey laughs, turning to examine the monitor as well. “You’ll be able to hear if anything changes. I might not be a doctor, but I have seen every episode of _Grey’s Anatomy,_ and I can confidently inform you that there will be a very loud, drawn-out beep when I die.”

“Don’t say that,” Poe’s hand cups her jaw and drags her face to look him in the eyes. He looks like a dying man, eyes burning with something powerful, something that makes her squirm because how could she ever make a man like Poe Dameron look like that? “Please don’t even joke about that, Rey.”

“Okay,” Rey nods, and covers his hand with her own, ignoring the light tug from her arterial line. “I’m sorry.” She’d say more to reassure him, but her head is starting to actually hurt.

Poe makes a sound suspiciously like a whimper and kisses her. It’s the first time she can remember him kissing her without asking for permission, but she doesn’t call him on it, not when she doesn’t mind.

“Rey,” he heaves out when they separate. “Oh fuck, Rey, you can’t die.” He pets her hair, and tries to smile at her, tears in his eyes. “Please, baby, don’t leave me like that.”

“I’m fine, Poe,” she tries to reassure him. “Really, I’m starting to suspect that I’m actually the Terminator. Like, the car was dented more than I was.” She pretends to flex a muscle. She feels fairly loopy. Probably the brain bruise talking. “I even have metal in my arm now, look!” She holds up her arm, forgetting it’s in a cast, again. “Whatever, I’ll show you later.”

Poe does manage to laugh at her declaration, but he buries his face in her hospital gown all the same. “I’m sorry, I’m a fucking mess. You should have seen me on the drive over here.”

He’s the most ridiculously safe driver she’s ever met, so Rey gasps in mock outrage. “Did your hands leave two and ten? Major Dameron!”

Poe sits up and laughs for real, even though he’s still sort of crying. “You got me.” Rey laughs with him and then groans.

“That’s enough clever comments for one night, I think,” she grumbles, holding her forehead and closing her eyes. “Mild concussion is still concussion.”

“Oh shit, I’ll go sit in the chair and stop talking.”

“Don’t you dare move, Poe,” Rey scolds him, going to hold his wrist but forgetting _again_ that her arm is in a cast. “Fuck. Anyway, this isn’t my first concussion. Or third. That’s probably why they were so freaked out.”

“Don’t tell me that,” Poe rests his chin on her shoulder. “God, don’t tell me that. How do you feel about wearing a helmet at all times of the day? Maybe I could make you an outfit of bubble wrap?”

Rey snorts. Her eyes close on their own, and she feels herself start to drift off involuntarily. She yawns, and smiles when she feels Poe kiss her cheek. “You’re scratchy,” she giggles.

“Sorry.” She hears the grin on his face, but her eyes are drifting shut.

“No, no, I like it. Like you. Love you.”

She’s under before she can remember what she said.

**

Poe stares at his girlfriend in absolute shock. _Did she?_ No. She has a lot of drugs in her system. He knows from experience that you can say just about anything with that much shit running through your veins. Still, though. Her sweet voice telling her that she loved him; he’ll never forget that, even if she never says it again.

Poe’s still studying her sleeping face when a nurse walks in.

“Visiting hours are over, dear.” The woman smiles at him kindly.

“Please,” he whispers. “Please don’t make me leave. I’ll get out of the bed if I have to, I’ll sleep on the floor if I have to, but please. I can’t leave her.” _Everyone leaves,_ her voice whispers to him through his memories.

“Fine,” the nurse waves her hand. “Get out of the bed. And I’ll pretend like I never saw you.”

“Thank you,” he says earnestly, already climbing off the mattress carefully. “Thank you so much.” He reseats himself in his chair, and slips his hand through her cold one. He strokes his thumb across her knuckles and rests his chin on the bed. Poe can’t keep his eyes off her face, even though he’s sure he’s drawing the attention of the other person in the room. 

“How long have you two been married?” The nurse asks off-handedly as she scrolls over Rey’s monitors and checks her IV.

“Pardon?” He sits up slightly.

“You and your wife,” she laughs, checking Rey’s blood pressure and recording it in the computer. “How long have you been married?”

“Oh, she isn’t my wife,” Poe explains. He isn’t blushing. He doesn’t feel anxious. But, a monster in his chest grumbles at the fact that what he said is true. _Why isn’t she my wife?_ He wonders. _Because you’re a fucking mess, and you’ve only known her for six months._ Right. “She’s my girlfriend. I really love her, though.”

“I know.” The nurse smiles at him. “I’ve seen that look. Same eyes, in all kinds of different faces.” The nurse finishes typing her notes. “You plan on marrying her?”

“If she’ll have me.” The answer is easy, immediate.

“Honey, she wakes up and realizes you’ve been at her side this whole time, looking like that,” the older woman shakes her head and laughs. “I don’t see how she could say no.”

Poe grins at her, suddenly exhausted, and he falls asleep with the top of his head touching Rey’s hip above the blankets.

***

Poe wakes up, blinking slowly, around 06:00. He gets up to use the restroom down the hall, and he practically sprints on the way back, in case he missed anything, any change in her condition.

She’s still sleeping, dwarfed in the sterile hospital bed.

Finn had taken Bee home with him last night, and Poe wishes the corgi were here. His neck is prickling, and everything’s spinning, and fuck, he just wants Rey to open her beautiful, hazel eyes again. Bruises litter her lovely face, and a cut on her temple is held together by a butterfly bandage. Her freckles stand out, somehow, against her pale skin.

Poe loves her. He needs to tell her.

He dozes off thinking about it, and wakes back up around 09:00 to take his meds and text Chirrut to explain that he might not make it in today.

His phone pings back automatically with an audio recording of Chirrut’s voice. “Tell our little sister that we hope she makes a speedy recovery.” He saves the file to play for Rey later.

Her eyes open when a nurse comes in at 10:00, a different nurse from last night.

“So you’re the boyfriend, huh?” He asks, a twinkle in his eye. Poe nods, guiltily, and tries to stay out of the way as much as possible.

“You’re famous,” Rey whispers to him, tapping his wrist with her unbandaged fingers. Poe kisses her fingertips sweetly, and smiles at her.

_I love you, I need to tell you._

A small part of him wants him to do it now, wants to get up on his chair and shout it so the whole damn hospital can hear.

But he knows better now. He remembers her discomfort with his open declarations of his interest in her at the coffee shop, during Open Mic Night; how she had assumed he had been _kidding_ about liking her, using it to generate a better stage persona. Rey is an intensely private person, he knows. She has less than ten friends, as far as he can tell – not that he judges. He has thirteen, and five of them are dead.

When he tells Rey he loves her, he wants it to be – not perfect, because there’s no such thing, and he’d wait forever if he waited for perfect – but he doesn’t want her to question if it’s real. He wants it to be just between them, and he doesn’t want her to think it was some disingenuous sickbed confessional.

So he keeps it inside himself, a glowing ball of _justfuckingtellhershealmostdiedgodyouloveherwhyareyoulikethis_.

Just a little longer. Just until this is over, and he can take her home.

Visiting hours come, soon enough, and Poe leaves briefly so Finn and Rose can sit with Rey. While he’s in the hallway, inspiration strikes him, and he immediately pulls his notebook out and writes his idea down. Poe smiles to himself, pleased with his brain for once.

When he comes back half an hour later, Finn and Rose both give him a hug before they head back to their apartment. Rey looks set to fall asleep, but her head is hurting, so they order more morphine.

“Will you hold me until I can sleep?” She asks, timidly, after they administer the painkillers.

Of course he will. When she’s dozing peacefully, he climbs back off the bed and reclaims his chair.

He’s still sitting when Ben Solo walks in.

At least the guy isn’t holding flowers. Poe doesn’t know what he would do with that.

“Hey. How was she today?” Solo comes to sit in the opposite chair, looking unbothered that he didn’t find her awake.

“Good,” Poe answers just as quietly. “She managed to get through a few hours without painkillers; if that’s because she’s feeling better or because she’s the most fucking stubborn person I’ve ever met is anyone’s guess.”

“I know exactly what you mean.” Ben smiles fondly, too fondly, at Rey, and Poe’s fist tightens on his leg. _Don’t do this,_ he tells himself. _You don’t own her. This is her friend._

Friends don’t look at friends like that. _Breathe._

“In case you were wondering, the car that hit her was driven by a 16-year-old kid who just got his license. He wasn’t drunk, he wasn’t texting. He just overcorrected. Kid was scared shitless. Luckily his parents have a fairly good insurance plan, so it will cover a lot of her bills.”

“Good.” Poe nods. He hadn’t even stopped to consider the cause of the accident, he’d been so focused on Rey.

“Yeah, good. My mom will probably be by tomorrow. She’s out of town right now. If you wanted to see her.” Poe isn’t sure if he does or not.

They’re quiet again, listening to the recurring, satisfying beeps of the multiple machines hooked into Rey.

“Not to bother you, but,” Poe’s going to regret this. “Do you still have feelings for Rey?”

Ben looks at him, impassive. “What do you think, pilot?”

“I think it doesn’t matter, really. It only matters who she has feelings for.” Not the kindest thing he’s ever said, but he’s had a shitty couple days.

“And that would be you.” Ben clenches his fist on the side of the bed, and takes a deep breath.

Poe is barely prepared for what he says next, but he’s glad he pulled his hand away from Rey’s, so he didn’t do anything stupid like crush them in his blind anger.

“It’s just – I think about it all the time, you know? If I’d been nicer when we met. If I hadn’t misread the signs so badly. If I’d just gotten to know her instead of looming over that counter and terrifying her.” Ben snarls a curse under his breath. “Clearly the universe wants her in my life. Why have her almost adopted by my uncle when she was a kid?” _Wait, what?_ Ben doesn’t stop to explain. “Why bring her _here_ to Raleigh, from Arizona? She picked this bus stop randomly, you know. When she emancipated herself. She could have gone anywhere in the country, and she came here, and she stayed here. Like she was waiting for something.” Ben stares at Poe, dark eyes intense. “I could be poetic and think she was waiting for me. But here you are, in her hospital room, and here you’ll be when she wakes up. Fuck. If I’d just been a little nicer, a little more myself, and not Kylo Ren – you wouldn’t even be here right now. And that’s going to haunt me until I die.”

“If that’s what’s going to haunt you,” Poe licks his upper lip, and strokes a hand down the line of Rey’s leg, above the blanket. “Then you should count yourself lucky.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Ben sits up straight, and Poe remembers, again, just how large this man is. “I love her. Do you?”

Poe looks back at him steadily. He doesn’t need to answer. He knows his face is answering for him.

“Of course you do.” Ben rubs his eyes tiredly. “I can’t even say ‘if you fuck up, I’ll be waiting.’ Because the worst part of this is, I don’t want you to fuck up. She’s had enough fuck-ups in her life. You make her happy. I want her to be happy. I want to make her happy, but I don’t want her heart to break for that to happen. So just. Be fucking careful with her.”

That’s unexpected. Poe doesn’t say anything, other than: “I’d die before I’d hurt her.”

Ben looks at him and smiles, a thin-lipped, sad smile. “I believe that. I’m going now. I shouldn’t be here when she wakes up. But before I leave, let me say this: a lot of things are going to happen in the next few months. And I’m going to ask for your help with something, at the end of it all. And when I ask, I want you to consider agreeing to do it. Not for you. But for her. Because I have a feeling you won’t do it for yourself. So do it for her.” Poe stares at him in utter confusion, anxiety already coiling in his gut.

Apparently he doesn’t even need to respond. Ben leans forward and rests his absurdly large hand on the top of Rey’s head. Her eyes flutter weakly, and she makes a small noise.

“Sleep, scavenger,” Ben instructs in his impossibly deep voice. “Just sleep.” Rey sighs again, and she continues to doze, small hand subconsciously reaching up the pillow for Ben’s hand, her face only settling when her fingers wrap around his.

The urge to smack Ben’s hand away is strong, but he stops himself. This man is important to Rey, and if anything he just said was true, he cares about her in a way that Poe is all too sympathetic to. So no. He won’t strike him out of anger or fear or jealousy.

Poe nods at Ben in dismissal and settles further back into his chair when his large form retreats from the room.

***

When Rey is discharged the next day, he helps her up the steps into his apartment, ignoring her swats at his chest.

“I can do it myself, Major,” she snaps tiredly, cast-free arm already cradling her injured ribs.

Poe shakes his head and wraps his arm around her shoulders tighter. He isn’t letting her go. Not again.

He fusses over her while she settles into the couch, bringing pillow after pillow, a glass of water, a book, the remote, anything she might want.

Rey giggles, semi-hysterically, and then hiccups in pain. He’s on her in an instant.

“What? What hurts? What?”

“My ribs, you ridiculous man, it hurts when I laugh.” Rey laughs again, and then squeaks in pain. “And you’re going to bury me under all this stuff. You’re like a little magpie, I swear!”

“What else can I get you?” He asks anxiously, not wanting to hurt her further, not wanting her to need anything and not be able to get it.

“I want you to take, like, ten of these pillows away, grab me a Percocet, and then get your cute ass over here so you can snuggle me properly while we watch _The Great British Baking Show,”_ Rey declares, a royal accent creeping into her natural lilt. “Sound good?”

Yeah. It sounds good. She falls asleep ten minutes into the episode, Mary Berry politely reaming out a contestant on screen, and Poe gives in to his exhaustion half an hour later, moving to the end of the couch and putting her feet in his lap so she can have as much room as possible.

Poe falls asleep with his head tilted towards Rey, the sounds of her breathing filling his ears. It’s the best goddamn lullaby he’s ever heard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Poe finally says something
> 
> Chapter after that, tentatively titled, "The One Where Rey and Poe...You Know."
> 
>  
> 
> (Chapter title from "Lover, You Should've Come Over," by Jeff Buckley and it is a paintrain.com kind of song)


	20. Darling So It Goes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey recovers; six weeks later, Poe has something to tell her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter than normal, but I hope you won't mind <3

Recovery is not easy. She has Rose, and Finn, and Poe, always Poe, to help her when she recovers. With the money from Uncle Ben, she does not feel so bad about taking off work for the first six weeks, so she can get the rest her doctor was so adamant about. “ _How much did he – what?”_ Finn had asked incredulously, examining the check while Rose and Poe whooped delightedly in the background. Rey always flinches at that memory, at the moment when her boyfriend had put his hands on her waist, about to lift her in what surely meant to be a celebratory airborne spin, when he winced and remembered himself, dropping his hands from her as if he’d been electrocuted.

 _I’m fine,_ she’d wanted to snap. _I’m not suddenly made of glass. You should go slowly, but I’d rather you still touched me._ Because Poe hasn’t touched her, not really. Not in the way she wants him too.

Poe kisses her, always. He even kisses her without triple-checking for permission, sometimes, when they’re already sitting close, and his eyes are warm and happy and liquid brown, and she knows her own eyes mirror his contentment.

Poe still embraces her, carefully. He holds her hand, and strokes her back, and brings her tea, and rubs her feet, and cooks her favorite foods, and braids her hair, and helps her dress on particularly bad days.

Rey is going mad from it.

Poe does not have sex with her. He does not initiate any sexual activity, of any kind.

Poe does not comment when she emerges from his bedroom (which steadily seems to becoming their bedroom, while Rose and Finn work through their pre-honeymoon honeymoon phase, and she relies on Poe for more and more, something that terrifies her and makes a small part of her quietly happy), about a month after the accident, wearing a red, lacy babydoll, his dog tag, and nothing else. His pupils dilate, and she sees his pulse jump in his throat, but he makes no move to touch her. When she settles into the couch next to him, stretching and arching her back with faux-innocence, he smiles at her, maddeningly sweet, and asks if she needs a heating pad for her back.

“I need you to fuck me,” she wanted to snarl. Instead, she sighed, and nodded, and accepted his pleasant, stifled, doting care and affection.

She wants more, and she wants what they already have. Because to be fair, she isn’t sure she could handle more. Her current emotional state has been…better.  

Rey has recovered from similarly life-altering injuries; the stab wound at 16, the beating at 17, various concussions and breaks. But something about this concussion, these rib fractures, and the damned screws in her arm have made her even more foul-tempered than usual.

Confusingly, there are several times when she’s feeling particularly irate that she notices Poe smiling at her in a certain way.

It’s soft. She hadn’t known smiles could be soft – the only ones she knew for so long were sharp, harsh, mocking. But when Poe smiles at her like that, even when she’s feeling poorly and crabby and snaps at him, she thinks that’s precisely what his smile is. _Soft._

He smiles like he has something tucked away in his mouth, some beautiful and untouchable secret. He smiles, his lush, full lips wrapping around this private joy, and Rey wants to climb into his lap when he smiles like that, and poke around with her skinny fingers until she can find the reason and pull it out and examine it. She wants to know what makes him smile like that – how can he smile at _her_ like that, with all her sharp edges, and her half-metal arm, and her full-metal fury at her newfound weakness and fragility.

She pulled at her hair once, when an anxiety attack flared harsh and cruel in her stomach, forcing the already limited air from her lungs – Rey had pulled her hair and fought the urge to whimper, because she will _not_ give in, not to this pain, not to her exasperation, not to her helplessness. And Poe had been there immediately, just as borderline-infuriatingly calm as ever, kind and gentle and soothing. He’d untangled her fingers from her hair, and kissed her scalp, and then her fingers, and pulled her in tight to her chest. Rey had dug her fingers in to his shirt, suddenly sobbing, and all he had done was rub circles into her back, and he hadn’t said anything ridiculous like _it’s okay_ or _this will pass._ He’d just said, _I know, sweetheart. I know._ And he did know. Poe knew better than anyone; perhaps even better than herself. In his arms, the violence in her chest, the impotence, the exhaustion, the self-hatred, had faded away.

And when he pulled away to kiss her on the nose, there it was again. That soft, impossibly soft smile. Poe looked at her like he saw her, and he liked what he saw; he looked at her like there was something in her to see. To be fair, Poe had always looked at her like that, and his smile had always been gentle, but this. This is almost unbearable.

Rey loves Poe and his soft smile.

But she isn’t sure any words she might have on the subject would be good enough for him.

***

It’s the first week of February, and her cast is finally off.

The screws need to stay in for a few months more, but Rey feels fuckin’ free and fancy fresh, to borrow a phrase from Rose.

She’s editing her thesis when she gets a text from Rose.

Rose [6:45 p.m.]: _I am so, so sorry girl, but Finn is throwing up._

Rose [6:45 p.m.]: _He ate that fucking cookie dough that we told him not to fucking eat, fucking god my future husband is a mess._

Rey smiles at “my future husband,” and rolls her eyes at the rest. Oh, Finn.

Rose [6:46 p.m.]: _I am so sorry to ask, but could you please, please, with a thousand fucking cherries on top, real cherries, not even that Maraschino shit, cover the Open Mic at 8? Connie has a lab and can’t get out._

Rey [6:46]: _No worries! Let me just finish this page and I’ll be there by 7:50._

Rose [6:50]: _You are an actual angel. ILY  xx_

Rey [6:52]: _Ily2 xox_

Her thesis isn’t really getting any better, so she saves her document onto her flash drive and packs her backpack before walking out to the bus stop.

Open Mic Night has a soft spot in her heart, after all. It’s where she met Poe. He said he was visiting his dad tonight, and she already misses him. They’ve spent most nights for the last six weeks together, more frequently in his bed, and Rey is slightly worried she won’t be able to sleep without his warm and comforting presence at her back. He’d offered to leave her Bee, but she doesn’t like the idea of him without his therapy dog, no matter how much she loves the stupid corgi.

She’s contemplating the benefits of adopting her own dog – maybe she should start with a turtle, or a fish, or something slightly less dependent on a responsible human being – when her phone lights up one more time.

Poe Dameron, Cutest Boyfriend of All Time [7:22]: _Miss you already, Sunshine._

Rey [7:22]: _Miss you too. Say hi to Kes for me!_

Poe Dameron, Cutest Boyfriend of All Time [7:23]: _He likes you better than me. It isn’t fair. He and I share DNA._

Rey smiles at her boyfriend, and how much he loves his dad. The next thirty minutes pass in quiet, and Rey watches the small family in front of her, grinning at the antics of a bouncy toddler and his long-suffering older sister.

Soon they’re near the Resistance, and Rey pulls the “stop request” wire above her head. She appreciates public transportation, she really does, but fuck she misses her longboard.

Poe and Finn had literally hidden her longboard five weeks ago after they caught her trying to ride it. She had almost yelled at them, but she’d seen the tears in her boyfriend’s eyes when he whispered, “I’m just worried about you,” and thought twice about it.

Rey likes to think that means she’s growing.

She hops off the bus and waves at the toddler through the window, and walks up to the coffee shop.

It’s strangely dark inside, and she checks her phone to make sure she isn’t late. It’s 7:55 – maybe they just turned the lights down early.

She does pause when the door won’t open.

“Fuck,” she mutters. _Maybe Rose meant to say 7? Maybe she locked up and Rey wasn’t here to re-open the shop, and they’ll lose customers._

She shakes her head to clear the anxiety and pulls out her keys. When she walks in, she realizes that there maybe really was a mistake.

The coffee shop is mostly empty, but the stage is set up for Open Mic. Instead of the rows of chairs, there are rows of candles (and the grumpy part of Rey that never seems to calm down thinks, _that’s a fire hazard_ ), and a single chair placed right in front of the stage. Rose is standing five feet away from her, grinning wildly.

“I thought Finn was sick from the bad cookie dough?” Rey asks, dazedly. She thinks _maybe I fell and hit my head getting off the bus and I died or I’m in a coma. Huh._

“No, he definitely did eat that shit, but somehow he’s fine.” Rose shrugs. “Anyway, I’m just here to make sure you sit down.”

“Ooookay.” Rey says, still not understanding what’s happening. Rose leads her to the seat and grins wider when Rey settles in.

“Have fun!” She chirps, hands Rey a bunch of daisies, and she disappears out the door before Rey can protest, before she can ask _what the fuck is happening,_ and her traitorous roommate locks the door behind her.

“Hey, Sunshine.” Rey whips around, and sees her boyfriend standing on the stage shyly, holding his guitar and blushing.

“Hey,” she whispers. She blinks away inexplicable tears that she thinks may be from nervousness, or the unexpected appearance of her boyfriend. “Aren’t you supposed to be in Greenville?”

“Nah,” Poe shakes his head and sits on the edge of the stage. He’s only five feet away from her, but she wishes he’d come a little closer. “I’m supposed to be right here.”

“Oh,” Rey says, because that’s all she can say. She holds the flowers closer to her chest and stares at Poe.

He smiles, and it’s soft and shy and worried, and then he pulls his guitar into his lap. “I wanted to perform a song for you, but I didn’t want an audience for it.”

Rey nods. “Okay,” she smiles, still not understanding. “I love it when you sing.”

Poe makes a strangled noise. “That’s….good. That’s good to hear.” He clears his throat awkwardly. “Okay, here goes.”

His voice is just as beautiful as ever, his fingers coaxing pleasant, dreamy chords from his instrument while he sings: _“Wise men say only fools rush in/But I can't help falling in love with you/Shall I stay?/Would it be a sin/If I can't help falling in love with you?”_

Rey hasn’t heard her boyfriend sing since Thanksgiving. She drinks it in eagerly, still a little confused, but so happy to see him in his element.

_“Like a river flows surely to the sea/Darling so it goes/Some things are meant to be/Take my hand, take my whole life too/For I can't help falling in love with you”_

She loves this song, and she wonders if he heard her iPod playing it last week while she showered. Maybe that’s what made him want to sing it?

_“For I can't help falling in love with you”_

Poe clears his throat and coughs once more. He smiles at her, and just like it has been for weeks now, it’s soft. It’s soft and warm and Rey blushes.

“Thank you,” she says. “That was lovely.”

“You liked it?” He asks, still nervous, his hands fidgeting over the frets even now.

**

“Of course I liked it. And I don’t know why you put with me or even like me,” she smiles softly. “But I’m glad you do.”

That won’t do. “Can you come here, please?” He asks, setting his guitar down and holding his hands out.

She does, and he takes a deep breath. He’s survived so many things. So many things have been done to him.

He can do this one good thing for himself. He grabs her hands, and she walks forward carefully until she’s standing between his legs, and he’s looking up at her ardently, wondering if he can telegraph just how much he means this with his eyes.

“I don’t just like you, Sunshine.” He licks his bottom lip, willing for some sort of moisture so he can keep talking. “God, Rey. I love you. You need to know that. I love you like I’ve never loved anyone else. I love you so much, and you need to know that.” He doesn’t need her to say it back, doesn’t think he’s really done anything more than what she deserves, but Rey looks at him like he’s just told her she won the lottery.

Her thin arms are suddenly around his neck and his lap is half-full of a very happy, very teary Rey who’s kissing him for all she’s worth.

“Oh,” she says, peppering his face with kisses. Poe laughs, caught slightly off-guard by her reaction. “Oh, Poe.” Rey kisses him, long and hard on the lips, and Poe’s hands go instinctively to her hips, rubbing circles into the skin exposed by her shirt that’s slightly ridden up. She pulls away slightly and beams at him. Poe strokes her face, pushing her hair behind her ear and smiles back at her, glad that she’d reacted so well.

“That’s what I’ve wanted to tell you, for weeks now. I love you, too,” Rey says, and the world pitches forward into an entire kaleidoscope of hope and color and light, because she loves him, Rey loves Poe, and Poe loves Rey, and the universe might just balance itself in his favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next is...
> 
> well, you know.


	21. Folded and Unfolded and Unfolding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The One Where Rey and Poe...You Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated: E, almost the whole time, just lots of intimacy, oops. 
> 
>  
> 
> Consensual, safe sex: typical foreplay; oral sex; vaginal intercourse , and a discussion about safe sex

Two days before Valentine’s Day, Poe asks Rey on a date. Their dates have been highly limited for the last six weeks to sitting on the couch, eating takeout, and doing other activities that allow for bones to heal at a level deemed acceptable by the doctor, and even more sternly, by Poe.

Rey is delighted at the prospect of a real, actual date, and she showers quickly after her shift. Finn and Rose raise their eyebrows in tandem as she comes sprinting out in her towel.

“Um,” she says, suddenly shy. “What should I wear?” Twin, evil grins descend on her friend’s faces, and they hustle forward, ushering Rey into her room. Rose tosses her lingerie that won’t be uncomfortable under her clothes, but are still ‘cute enough to restart his brain,’ and Finn digs through her closet until he finds shoes that match the red of her dress. Rose offers to braid her hair, which Rey accepts happily. She doesn’t think she can hold her hands over her head to complete a braid without exhausting herself; she wants to save as much energy as possible for the date, and anything pleasant that might happen afterwards.

After much internal debate, and a knock on the door that has Rose and Finn scurrying to let Poe in, Rey snags a few condoms from her bedside drawer. She throws them in her bag, with a clean change of underwear in case she spends the night (Poe will lend her pajamas, although she prefers to sleep in just his shirt, which she knows is a sentiment he echoes), and then she walks as calmly as possible out to the front room. It feels like the first date all over again, and Rey wonders at the excitement she still feels, nearly half a year into dating Poe. She doesn’t have a lot of experience in the area, but she’s fairly certain that this is the exception, not the rule, the joy and exhilaration she feels at the mere idea of him.

Poe’s standing in their kitchen, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. He’s dashing in his leather jacket, a blue button down, and jeans that are almost immodestly tight over his muscular legs. Rey smiles at him and accepts the flowers when he kisses her cheek.

“You look lovely,” he murmurs into her ear as he embraces her.

“You do too,” she laughs, and Poe’s hands briefly tighten on her waist.

Finn and Rose wave them off, looking like overly fond parents. Rey finds that she doesn’t mind it so much anymore.

When she asks Poe where they’re going, he grins wide and full.

“Somewhere green,” he says jovially. Rey smiles back, but part of her wishes she hadn’t accepted the dress Rose picked out – if they’re going on a hike, she would have preferred her cargo shorts and a sweatshirt.

They take a turn off the highway, and Rey lifts her eyebrows at the sign for a Botanical Garden.

“Major Dameron, are you taking me to look at plants?” She asks, excitement already fluttering in her chest.

“They’re only open a few weekends a year to the public; I reserved a spot a few months ago,” Poe explains shyly. Rey stares at him for a few minutes while he pulls into the parking lot and turns of the car. He looks at her quizzically.

“Can I kiss you?” She blurts out, already unbuckling. Poe smiles and nods, his eyes wrinkling endearingly, and Rey almost throws herself across the car so she can kiss him silly.

They pull apart a minute later, Poe’s skin flushed and pupils blown wide. “Uhm. Plants. Yeah. Plants.” He opens his door and tumbles out into the lot. Rey laughs and follows suit.

The grounds at the gardens are spectacular, and Poe tugs on her hand and asks her the name of each flower they pass.

The thirtieth time he asks, about an hour and a half into the date, Rey laughs and tells him, “ _Galanthus,_ it’s a snowdrop, but Poe, darling, they do put signs out.  You don’t have to keep asking me.”

“I know,” he says softly. “But I like to hear you say it.”

Rey’s ears flush – no one’s ever thought favorably of her obsession with plants before. She’d been kicked around for it in high school, deemed nerdy and strange for her green thumb, and no one outside her advisors and her roommates had ever listened to her on the subject for more than a minute without checking their phone or rolling their eyes.

But, Poe. Poe’s different. He always is.

“How do you know so much about plants, Sunshine?” His soft, sweet smile is back, and Rey wants to wrap herself in this feeling forever. She tilts her head, considering the next section of flowers when she answers.

**

“It was a way to distract myself, I guess. At least it started that way.” His girlfriend plays with the sleeves of her red dress nervously while she stares down at the plants.

God, she’s beautiful. Poe doesn’t know how they ended up here, standing in a garden while flowers bloom around Rey like she’s Persephone herself. _That makes me Hades,_ he thinks distantly, still staring at her. _I guess that makes sense; I’m always stealing her time._

“I feel like most orphans in movies talk about looking up at the stars and feeling something,” Rey shrugs self-consciously and squats down so she can stroke the petal of a flower. “But I was always too busy looking at my feet, seeing where my next step might take me. That’s how I saw the flowers, the weeds, all of it. All of the green things I didn’t get to see after Ben died. All of the green things that managed to grow in the desert, that learned how to grow even when the world was working against them. So much green, and it was all so important. So I taught myself all the names, and I would repeat them, over and over, on the way to school, in the shop Plutt made me work in, while I was lying in my bed pretending to be anywhere else.”

Rey smiles and traces her finger in the dirt, creating a small spiral. “It’s funny, Poe,” and they’ve shared so much, but his name on her lips still has the power to bring him to his knees. So, he sits down next to her in the dirt, not caring if it will stain his pants, and looks at her face when she says, “I spend all my time with plants, but no one ever bought me flowers. No one but you. And now you’ve brought me here and—and—you’re so thoughtful and kind, and you look at me like I mean something. You’re not like anyone else I’ve ever met, and I…I want to share everything with you. I’m not afraid of anything with you.” Her cheeks flame red as she strokes a thumb over a pinnate leaf in front of her, and she’s so impossibly brave, and she’s so beautiful, and she’s so strong (and Poe realizes, the knowledge hitting him head on like a train, what he wants to do, right now). “I’m so glad I know you.”

“Rey,” Poe takes her wandering hand in his and pulls it over to his lap, hoping that she’ll turn her large eyes on him. He rejoices when she does. “I love you.” He says it like an oath. “I hope you know how much I mean that.”

“Yeah?” She says, hope shining from her face.

“Yeah. I – I want to take you home, now.” It’s urgent, very urgent, that he get her home. As quickly as possible. “We can come back another weekend that they're open if you want, as many times as you want, I just – I want it to be just you and me right now, I want –”

“Poe.” The short syllable is all it takes for him to stop his rambling. “What are you trying to say?” Her sweet smile suggests that she may already know.

“I want to take you home and make love to you.” He says it, and he’s shocked that he feels no embarrassment at the bold statement, the awkward phrasing. It’s just: it’s true. That’s all he wants right now.

“Okay.” Rey stands up and offers him her hand. He takes it, and he stands up beside her, the woman he loves.

“Okay?” He repeats, breathlessly.

“Take me home, Major.” She whispers, fingers still woven through his. His blood burns in his veins, and he swears he hears her name between each of his thudding heartbeats.

He isn’t sure how he gets them home in one piece – while driving, he leans down to kiss her fingertips, her wrist, her palm, and Rey keeps leaning over to kiss his shoulder, and at one point she unbuckles so she can mouth over the pulse on his neck at a stoplight, which makes him groan but also beg her to sit back down and re-fasten her seatbelt—but he does, and then they’re in his parking lot, he’s letting Bee out, and they’re all running up the stairs, Rey ahead of him, his hand clasped in hers.

Poe feels about eighteen years old when he presses his girlfriend into his front door, their legs tangling together effortlessly. They’re so, so good at this part already. He knows what makes her gasp and jump, he knows how much pressure to apply to her collarbone, to her sides. Poe drags his mouth over the sensitive skin under her ear while he fusses with his keys and his doorknob, getting his door open while never parting from Rey.

“Let me know if this hurts,” he whispers. Poe grabs her behind her knees, and pulls her up into his arms, so his hips are cradling most of her weight. The old scar on his abdomen groans in protest, but he ignores it. God, he could ignore everything right now, with Rey hot and squirming against him, her sweet mouth attacking his as he strides forward into the apartment. He gets as far as the wall between the kitchen and the hallway, and then Rey’s back is against the wall, and he kisses her with a ferocity he thought he had forgotten. Rey moans, but then twinges involuntarily – it’s definitely too much for her.

Poe lets her down immediately, dropping her weight slowly and safely until her feet are on the ground.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, resting his forehead against hers. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll go slower.”

“Don’t apologize,” Rey says. She ducks her head to kiss under his jaw, and Poe closes his eyes, his hand slipping up to her braid so he can hold it, stroking over the soft ends. “I definitely want to do that again, maybe when my body is a little less banged up?” Rey pulls away and smiles happily at him, her eyes bright, and a little nervous.

“Yes,” he nods fervently. There are so many things he wants to do with her. He doesn’t want to mess this up so those things never happen. _Breathe, Dameron._

“Do you want to go to the bedroom?” She asks, doe eyes wide and innocent for all she’s asking. Poe nods, throat tightening. _I can do this. I am ready. I am ready. I am ready._

Rey leans forward and kisses him tenderly, like no one’s ever kissed him before, and he feels a part of himself opening up, a crack in his chest that both folds and unfolds, tightens and loosens, heals and deepens. He wants everything with her. He does. Poe kisses her back as gently as he can, as gently as he can while his soul surges, yearning for her so strongly he thinks she should hear it.

“I love you,” he says the second their lips part.

“And I love you,” Rey says, taking him by the hand, and pulling him backward to his bedroom. The door’s already open, so she walks across the threshold, thumb rubbing into his palm, her luminous eyes fixed on his.

“You’re sure you want to do this?” She asks when they reach the bed.

“More sure than I’ve ever been about anything,” he confesses. They’ve waited so long. He doesn’t want to wait anymore. “And you’re sure?”

Rey pulls her dress over her head as her response, and Poe’s brain skips like an old record at the sight of her.

“Uh,” he laughs nervously. “Oh, wow. You gotta start letting me undress you. If, uh, that’s something you’d want. Obviously I wouldn’t do it if you didn’t want me to do it, I just uh –” he cuts himself off, rambling as ever. Something about Rey disconnects his clever mouth from his clever brain; it’s been like that since day one.

Rey rolls her eyes playfully and smiles at him, gesturing at him to step closer to her, which he does eagerly.

It’s probably because this is all leading somewhere new, somewhere he hasn’t been in two years, but her soft, warm skin under his palms lights up every nerve in his body as he slides his hands down her waist, and comes to rest on her hips, and he's definitely never felt like that before. He fidgets with the elastic of her underwear nervously, while Rey’s fingers come to pull on the top button of his shirt.

“Can I take this off?” She asks. “Or would you rather leave it on?” She isn’t teasing him, she means the question, he knows, but Poe wants to even the playing field, fast, so he pulls on the shirt himself and rips at least five buttons off as he yanks the damn thing off his body. The plastic scatters across the floor of his room, disturbing Bee officially, who huffs and stalks to the corner of the room, settling into his bed with his back to the proceedings behind him.

“I’m really bad at sewing,” Rey informs him lightly. “I will not be of any help in getting those back on.”

“Fuck it,” he groans, already tugging his shirt off. “Don’t care.” He stands in front of her, wearing only his pants, and wonders at how different this is than any other time he’s had sex. If this were years ago, he’d order her bossily to sit on the bed, spread her pretty knees for him, maybe play with her a bit, or tell her to play with herself while he got ready, and then he’d make sure she had an enormously satisfying time in various, mildly acrobatic positions.

This is different. It’s her first time, and his first time in a long time, and it feels slower, warmer, safer than it ever has. Rey smiles at him while tugging on his belt, and he lets her pull it loose, and then her clever fingers find the fastenings of his pants and soon he’s stepping out of those, and they’re both tumbling back to his bed, and everything he knows is Rey.

He balances his weight as best he can on his hands, not wanting to crush her so soon after she’s been cleared by her doctor. He’s especially careful with her forearm, which still bears the metal supports that work to fix the compound fracture – that Finn had insisted on showing him pictures of, an image that has now joined his plethora of nightmares – and no, he can’t think about that now, not when Rey’s hand slips down his stomach and comes to rest on the edge of his boxers.

“Take these off, and I’ll take mine off?” She suggests. Poe nods, and soon they’re naked, after he fumbles with the clasp of her bra and helps her shrug it off.

He kisses her left breast, his hand coming up to toy with her right, and Rey arches and pulls on his hair, a light, very desirable kind of pain that has him hissing against her skin.

“How do you want to do this?” Rey asks, sounding suddenly timid.

Poe lifts his head and winces. He hasn’t taken a girl’s virginity since he lost his own, sixteen years ago. “It goes better if you’re on top, I think.” He rolls over so they can rearrange.

Rey’s hand on his shoulder stops him from lying down all the way. “Poe, darling, I don’t think that’s a good idea for us.”

“Why not?” Rey is tall for a woman, almost as tall as he is, true, but she’s slender and he outweighs her by sixty pounds.

“Remember that day in the car last year?” Rey’s face is full of concern, concern for _him,_ he realizes. “I’m not saying we can never do that position, but … we’ve never even made out with me on top successfully. What we’re about to do is going to make both of us feel very vulnerable, I think. And I’m okay with a less than ideal position physically, if we’re both going to feel better emotionally.”

She makes sense, as always. He nods in confirmation. “Okay. I’ll be on top.” His cock twitches in interest, which draws Rey’s attention. She smirks at him, and her small hand slips down to toy with its head, and he groans eagerly.

“Can I eat you out?” He asks. “You should be as wet as possible, before…”

Rey nods, quickly, and she’s still nodding when he settles himself between her long, gorgeous legs. Poe breathes in, trying to calm himself, but all he does is bring himself closer to her taste and her smell, and it’s with a groan that he tips forward and kisses her gently on her clit. Rey mewls and asks, “more, please, more,” but Poe wants to take his time. He sets in with steady, easy pace, circling slowly and then dipping down, and back up again, over and over again until Rey is panting, saying his name like a mantra, and Poe’s achingly hard against the bed, cock wanting nothing more than to be where his tongue currently is.

**

Poe’s driving her mad. He really is. Eventually, he slips a finger and then another into her, and Rey whimpers at the slight stretch while his tongue mercilessly teases her, around his fingers, sometimes between his fingers, over her clit. Her orgasm is almost completely unexpected, the build up to it extremely slow and sweet and patient, and her mouth forms his name but she isn’t entirely sure she says it out loud, and yet somehow she thinks he heard it. Poe smiles at her contentedly when she opens her eyes after her senses return to her, his head resting on her thigh, fingers still crooked inside her.

“Love you,” he says, eyes soft and wondering.

“Love you,” she answers. “Fuck me?”

Poe laughs, and then he nods. He climbs up and over her body on his hands and knees, and when he kisses her, she tastes herself, and Poe, and _oh fuck,_ his cock is right where it should be, and she wants more, she needs more.

“Okay. We can do this.” Poe smiles at her, and he’s right. They can do this. “Um. I need to go to the bathroom, to grab a condom.” Rey immediately pouts at the thought of him leaving her for even thirty seconds; and, the raving, animal part of her pouts at the thought of him not bare inside her when she needs him hot and close and _now._

“I brought condoms,” she says, squirming. “In my purse. But we don’t have to use one. I’m still on birth control, and I want you.”

“You’ll have me, sweetheart.” Poe moves away so she can no longer feel his hard length pressed against her, and she moans at the departure. “You have me, but we’ve talked about this in the past, and you said that you’d want to use a condom. I’m not comfortable making a change to the plan when we’re caught up in the moment, and I don’t want you to regret any part of this. So, I’m asking for me, can we use a condom?”

Rey nods, feeling tears prick at her eyes. “Yes, of course. We can always skip it next time, if we want.” Poe laughs, but he’s already getting up off the bed so he can pull her purse off the ground. He digs around for less than a second and comes back clutching the foil package. Rey spreads her legs wider to make room for him to kneel again, and Poe groans, one knee on the bed, one hand on his erection, both eyes locked on her.

“Rey,” he says, sounding strangled. “Rey, sweetheart.” He clambers on the bed and he’s kissing her, his cock bumping up against her stomach, and Rey laughs, and then Poe laughs, and it’s happy and sweet and so much easier than she thought it would be. Rey props herself up on her elbows, one knee bent with her foot flat on the bed, so she can watch her boyfriend unwrap the condom and slowly roll it on.

“Can you show me how to do that, later?” Rey asks curiously. “I want to try.”

“Mhm,” Poe answers, incredibly distracted. “Yeah, Sunshine, whatever you want.” He takes a deep shuddering breath when the condom is fully on, and he grips the base of his cock desperately, eyes closing.

“Poe Dameron,” Rey says softly, knocking her leg against his knee. Poe looks at her, brown eyes warm in the soft light of the bedside table. “I love you, you know.”

“I know,” he whispers. Poe comes back down so he can kiss her again. “I know, and I hope you know I love you, too.”

They both hiss when his cock lines up with her perfectly. “I know,” Rey gasps, something inside of her commanding that she roll her hips down. She obeys the impulse, and it has Poe clutching her hip tightly.

“Jesus fuck, mother of –” She feels him slip against her, and he brushes over her clit accidentally. Rey keens and digs her nails into his shoulders, which he seems very okay with, and he grins at her. The cocky pilot he once was, the one that’s still hidden away inside of him, shows as he grips himself and purposefully drags over her clit again, and again, until Rey is begging him for more.

Poe kisses her forehead, her nose, and finally her lips. “If it hurts too much, we don’t have to keep going,” he tells her, voice almost hazy. “Just tell me, we’ll stop.”

“Okay.” Rey doesn’t even argue with him. There’s no fucking way they’re going to stop, not now, but she knows it’s important for them to be on the same page the whole time.

She gasps a second later when Poe closes his eyes as if he were deep in thought and pushes his hips forward. There’s a foreign feeling of pressure – it’s different than his fingers, she thinks dazedly – and then a pain that’s both sharp and dull and uncomfortable but also completely bearable.

“Still with me?” He asks, clearly not even an inch in yet. Rey nods, and shifts her hips, trying to adjust. Poe smiles at her, and he doesn’t look away from her eyes this time as he continues to push forward. “Relax, baby, please just relax.” Rey listens as well as she can, but God, it’s so different than anything else that’s been inside her. She looks into Poe’s eyes, and he’s still smiling at her, and it reminds her that it’s _Poe,_ and he’s good and sweet and kind, and everything she never let herself want, and when he leans down to kiss her, she sighs into his mouth, and soon the borderline-painful stretch ceases. Rey’s left with a feeling of fullness and pressure, and when she shifts her hips one more time, she realizes that underneath the burn, there’s something very _right_ about this, and she definitely wants to figure out what it is.

“Move?” She asks Poe. When she looks at him more carefully, she sees that his eyes are closed in concentration, an expression of near-pain on his face, and sweat is beading his brow. “Are you okay?”

“That’s my line,” he laughs weakly, but his eyes open. He doesn’t look pained; he looks happy, and a thousand other emotions she isn’t prepared to untangle, not when he’s finally inside her.

“We can share,” she teases him. “What’s wrong?”

“Absolutely fucking nothing is wrong.” Poe smiles at her. “I’m just praying that this lasts long enough to be good for you.”

“It’s already good for me,” she reassures him, bringing her hand up to brush his damp curls out of his face. “It’s you.” Poe makes a small moan at that, and leans down to kiss her almost bruisingly.

“I love you,” he whispers into the small space between them. “I’m going to start moving now.”

It hurts the first time he pulls out, and Rey fights a wince because she’s pretty sure he’ll stop this whole thing if he suspects she’s uncomfortable. It isn’t the best feeling, but she can just, she can just tell that this is going to feel very good if she gets past the stretch.

It doesn’t come the third time he pushes in, but it becomes easier as she both feels and hears a low groan build in his chest.

“ _Joder,_ ” he mutters under his breath. “Rey, sweetheart.” His pace remains slow and patient, and Rey wonders if it’s always like this, if it’s always sweet and calm and gentle – she’s seen porn, and it never looked like this – when he moves his hips slightly to the left on the downward stroke, and he just – he finds that spot he usually finds with his middle finger when he’s been devotedly licking into her for minutes.

“Poe,” she gasps involuntarily. “Oh god, Poe.”

“There we go,” he grins at her, pleased with himself, and probably pleased with her. “That’s my Sunshine.” He kisses her sweetly, one arm still braced on the bed, his other coming down to gently circle her clit while he pushes back up against the spot that makes her see stars.

Rey clenches, something she didn’t think was possible when she’s so full, and that makes Poe emit a choked off grunt that sounds a lot like, “fuck.” He leaves his hand in place and steadily circles her clit while his hips twist and rock up into her. Rey can’t even remember what she was so uncomfortable about in the first place, not when she’s staring at the look of bliss that’s descended over Poe’s face.

He looks ten years younger, his mouth half-open as he stares in her eyes, and then down the length of her body, towards the place where they’re connected.

“Poe,” she whispers, a tight, hot coil building inside of her. It’s never felt like this, not before, not with his fingers or his clever mouth. “Poe, I –”

“Yeah,” he laughs shakily. “Yeah, oh fuck, I’m really close.”

“You should come,” she suggests breathily. She isn’t sure this build-up inside of her is going anywhere, not this time, not like this. The burn isn’t always present, but sometimes he’ll move a certain way and she remembers, she remembers that she isn’t used to this, her body can’t keep up with it, and she’ll lose the progress she’s made. But this is enough, this is so, so good, just being near Poe, and oh god, oh, she wants, she wants, “I want you to come inside me, Poe. It’s what I’ve wanted for so long.”

“Yeah?” He asks, breathless, hips snapping forward a little faster. Rey whimpers at the increase in speed; it isn’t unpleasant, just a little jarring.

“Yes, Poe, come, please,” she doesn’t know why she’s begging, doesn't know where these words are coming from, she just knows she desperately wants him to do just that. She likes the idea of him losing some control because of _her._

“Rey, Rey, Rey,” he chants her name as he gets even faster, and Rey tries to tip her hips into it, to meet him halfway, and that might have been the right thing to do, because suddenly he’s shouting a litany of curses and stilling, now silent, his mouth open and eyes squeezed shut.

“I love you,” she whispers into the silence, still enjoying the fact that he’s inside her. She becomes aware of the stickiness of their skin, the air of the room cool against it. She becomes aware of the pounding of her heart, and when she strokes a hand up his chest so she can tug on his necklace, tug him down for a kiss, she feels his own heart slamming against his skin.

“I love you, Rey.” Poe kisses her, and when he pulls away, she sees that he’s crying. “Sorry, that was just….”

“Too much?” She asks worriedly.

“No, no, sweetheart. That was perfect.” Poe slides out of her and she’s proud that she doesn’t release a hiss of pain or discomfort. She’s sore, she knows that much, but she also knows that she loves Poe. He takes the condom off carefully and ties it, throwing it into his wastebasket. “Come here.”

He pulls her towards his chest, and Rey feels like purring when she rests her head against his collarbone. Poe kisses her hair, and she strokes a hand up and down his leg, relishing the feeling of his muscled thigh under her fingers, the soft hair, the curve of his bottom.

“I’m so glad you’re addicted to coffee,” Rey comments off-handedly. A non-sequitur, but she’s feeling a little discombobulated.

“Hmm?” Poe asks. She doesn’t have to look at him to know his eyes are closed.

 “Nothing. I’m just glad we met.”

“Yeah,” Poe’s voice confirms her suspicion. He’s almost asleep, and so is she. “Yeah, me too, Sunshine.” They fall asleep like that, tangled together in the peace and quiet of Poe’s room, far away from anything that’s ever hurt them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> happy friday, y'all
> 
> (Chapter title from "Colorblind" by Counting Crows, and it's very much meant to reflect Poe's state of mind)


	22. Truths Revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newly vulnerable and open to each other, Poe and Rey discuss some truths of Poe's past. 
> 
> Rey witnesses a potential tragedy unfold at the Solo household.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating: E for sex, and extreme mature themes/references to violence/upsetting events. 
> 
> This is a DOOZY of a chapter, and please attend to the warnings:
> 
> Warning 1: Poe finishes up some business from the previous chapter (and they engage in round two the morning after). Oral sex, vaginal sex, mild dirty talk
> 
> Warning 2: Poe confesses to Rey in a moment of vulnerability many of the things that happened to him and others. References to torture, deaths of other people, etc. Inside the torture there are references to electrocution, water-boarding, stabbings, general body horror (involuntary nakedness, exposed bone), burns. Also, there is some shoddy medical treatment he encountered upon his return.
> 
> Warning 3: A character is revealed to be a recovering drug addict, and another is accused of being a secret alcoholic.
> 
> Warning 4: A character suffers from heart failure, and another character must perform CPR, which brings up traumatic memories. Intense references to loss of a loved one (but please see that the tags haven't been updated for 'major character death') and upsetting emotions. 
> 
> Warning 5 (yeah, we're at 5): Character has severe flashback to traumatic childhood/reacts poorly and mildly self-destructively. Character is barely responsive and has a dissociation-esque episode.  
> It's a doozy, friends, but we're moving this bad boy forward towards the conclusion.

Poe wakes up smiling before midnight and looks down at his girlfriend. Then he stops smiling, remembering that her experience had been significantly less fun than his own when they had sex.

Rey must feel his eyes on her, because she shifts slightly and wakes up, her hazel eyes blinking up at him sleepily.

“Hm, ‘s it morning already?” Rey asks, yawning and stretching.

“No, sweetheart,” Poe says. He still feels absurdly emotional, and he feels tears burning at his eyes.  “I’m just thinking.”

“A dangerous activity for you,” Rey stretches more, and looks up at him teasingly. “Thought I smelled something burning. Must have been what woke me up.”

“Ha, ha.” He taps her on the nose. “I was thinking it was a shame that you didn’t come on my cock.”

Rey sits bolt upright at that, her lip between her teeth. “Hmm?” She asks, eyes wide.

“I said,” he sits up as well and leans forward until there’s barely an inch of room between them. “It’s a crying shame that you didn’t come on my cock, sweetheart.” He lets his eyes drift over her face, their noses almost touching.

“Oh.” Rey’s eyes are glassy, and her perfect, pink mouth parts. Her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip, and Poe chases it, leaning in to kiss her sweetly.

“Oh?” He teases. “Is that permission to remedy that problem?”

“Are you going to fuck me?” Christ on the cross, he’ll never get over how blunt she is.

“Not right this second,” Poe says. He places his hand on her chest and strokes his thumb over her sternum lightly. “Do I have your permission to make you come?”

“Depends,” Rey smiles at him as she leans back on the mattress. The only thing she’s wearing is the necklace he gave her, and holy fucking fuck he’s going to die of lust before he even touches her. “Are you going to fuck me after that?”

“Maybe,” he whispers as he follows her down, kissing the long line of her inner thigh.

“Promises, promises,” she mutters. She doesn’t argue with him after that, not when his mouth is on her, drinking her in eagerly.

Her legs clamp around his head at one point, and God, he’ll never get used to this, how perfect and wonderful and warm she is, how responsive, how receptive, how little he’s done to deserve this.

“I love you,” he says to her, when he lifts away, fingers working almost desperately inside of her.

“Love you,” she gasps, back arching as she writhes against his mattress. Poe grins and dives back in, and soon her thighs are tight around his ears again, his name a drawn out moan on her lips.

She’s shaking when she comes down from it, and after he wipes at his mouth, Poe drops himself on the bed next to her to kiss her forehead.  

“I meant it,” he whispers into her hairline. “I love you so fucking much.” Rey nods and mumbles that she loves him, clearly punch drunk, and turns on her side to face him.

“Wanna move to the pillows?” He asks after a pause. Rey shakes her head and nuzzles into his chest.

Poe smiles contentedly, and uses his feet to snag a pillow and then curls his legs up to grab it. He places it under his head and holds Rey a little closer.

“This was your evil plan, Dameron,” Rey mutters, small finger jabbing him in the chest. “You wanted to tire me out.”

“Guilty,” he laughs. She whispers something about ‘smug assholes,’ before a light snore informs him that she’s well and truly asleep.

Poe tips into a dream shortly after that, and it’s entirely Rey, Rey surrounded by golden light, dancing through the stars like the goddess she is, somehow both savior and warrior with so little effort. She could save the galaxy, he realizes mid-vision, she could save entire universes and she settled for him.

***

Rey’s eyes are on his face when he wakes up. “Morning,” he says. It’s not quite dawn yet, and Bee’s snoring in the corner.

“Morning!” She chirps. “Sex?” Rey tosses a condom at him, and Poe barely catches it in time.

He laughs, then, loud and carefree, and Rey joins in after a pause. “I even made you coffee, in case you needed your energy, old man!” Sure enough, a mug sits on his bedside table. Poe sits up and drinks it blearily. He feels like the caffeine hits his veins a little harder than normal, perhaps sensing that he needs it to start working, quick.

“Still a morning person, I see,” he comments dryly after he feels more human. Rey’s wearing his shirt from yesterday, and she’s sitting cross-legged against the headboard, a wide smile on her face.

“Seems so,” she shrugs, bouncing up and down. It makes her breasts move in a very distracting way. “I love you!”

“I love you too, Sunshine.” He laughs – no, he _giggles,_ his hand coming to cover his mouth.

Rey looks delighted, and after she asks, “can I kiss you, please?” he sets the coffee down and catches her lips with his.

“Coffee breath, yuck!” Rey makes a face but then tilts her head to kiss him more. Poe laughs, and before he knows it, his shirt is off her body and on the floor, and he’s pressing her into the mattress, their bodies moving together perfectly. It’s familiar and wonderful, and Poe feels so, so much that he doesn’t know what he wants to do first.

Soon, he’s working his fingers into her, happy to find that she’s almost ready without preparation, and her hand is on his cock.

Per her request from last night, he shows her how to roll the condom on, her eyes wide and wondering as their hands work together. When he’s sure that it’s fully on, they fall back to the mattress, and they groan in unison.

It’s warm and soft and slow, and he kisses her neck tenderly as she gasps his name. His hand finds her clit, and he circles it patiently, eyes closing from the intensity building in his gut. He doesn’t know how long they move together, but her body is so hot and tight around him, he finds that time and space cannot be terribly important realities anymore, not when there’s Rey and Poe, Poe and Rey.

He feels her tighten around him, hears her high-pitched moan before she pitches forward, her head coming to rest on his shoulder as he continues to thrust into her, still slowly. It isn’t until the aftershocks shudder through her, and she gasps, “faster,” that he picks up his speed, nearing his own orgasm quickly.

“I love you,” she whispers, cupping his chin in her hand. Her eyes are the only things left in the universe; everything fades away, and he closes his eyes against it, resting his forehead on her forehead, kissing her lips, then her nose, and then burying his face in her neck.

“Rey,” he chokes out. “Rey, sweetheart, I love you.” His hips move faster of their own volition, and her legs wrap around his waist, bringing her impossibly closer, and he never wants it to end, so of course it does. Poe comes with a sharp curse, and he throbs almost unbearably as he empties himself into the condom.

He’s shivering when he pulls out, and he feels like he ejected thousands of feet from the ground. There’s no parachute, nothing to catch him, and he falls against the mattress, twisting to land on his back. Rey works the condom off of him, and he shudders at the overstimulation. She ties it carefully, obviously having observed him last night, and all Poe can do is lie back and watch her move.

“I love you,” he whispers, feeling suddenly cut open, like he’s been vivisected. “Rey.” He reaches out, feeling weak, and she slips in to his arms. Poe’s crying, and he isn’t sure why. “I promise I don’t always cry after sex,” he mutters, hating himself slightly.

“Are you okay, darling?” Rey kisses his collarbone, and the tenderness of the action inspires fresh tears. “Poe?”

He shakes his head. There’s so much inside of him, so much she needs to know, so much he’s been afraid of. Poe wants to punch the table, the bed, his leg, something, but he knows it would probably startle Rey or upset her, so he doesn’t. Not the healthiest reason to avoid it – he swears he can hear Mothma saying “ _maybe you should avoid self-destructive behavior for your own sake_ ” and God he can’t think about Mothma while he’s naked with his girlfriend.

But he answers her. “No, Rey,” he admits. “I’m not.” He cries at that, hot tears of shame, and she kisses his cheek softly, hovering over him as much as she can without boxing him in, and he loves her for it. Loves her for her sweet kisses and her gentle hands and her thoughtfulness.

She holds him for almost thirty minutes until he starts talking.

He tells her about it. He tells her about everything, the truth sliding out of him, harsh and slick and bitter, gouging his throat and burning away at what’s left of his pride.

Muran, first. “He wasn’t my boyfriend, but he should have been,” he whispers, facing the wall. Rey’s hands are in his hair, and she strokes his curls softly, her nails not scratching his scalp but rubbing it sweetly. He faces the wall, and Bee has woken up and is sitting in front of him, looking back at him calmly. “He died immediately. His neck broke when the transport crashed. I saw him before I passed out. I guess he had unbuckled for some reason.”

Tallie and Riva, next. “They killed the girls first. Shot them in front of me, didn’t even give me a chance to answer. They were together, and they wanted to get married, and those fuckers killed them like they didn’t mean anything, like they were nothing.” Fresh, hot tears leak from his closed eyes at that, and he feels Bee’s warm, wet nose snuffle at his forehead.

“Answer what?” Rey asks softly.

The truth, then. “They wanted to know where a man was. A man I had just met with. His name was Tekka. He’s dead now, died last year in a bombing. But he worked with refugees, a lot of important political refugees, but also kids. He had given me coordinates of a camp, to send evac and supplies to. I was the only person he trusted so they sent me in. I wasn’t a fucking spy. My people and I weren’t trained for that kind of op. I shouldn’t have been there.”

Rey kisses his head, and her arms tighten around him. “Poe.” His name feels like a benediction. It feels like forgiveness, like nothing he deserves.

Blario and Starck come next. “They tortured my friends in front of me for hours. Blario and Starck didn’t want me to give in, either, and they were braver than I was. I screamed the whole time, and they barely flinched.” They had been brave, they had been heroes, but Poe has a medal and a life, and they have a grave, and their families have flags. “They shot them, too.”

“Darling,” Rey’s pawing at his hair, or maybe Bee is, he can’t really tell. Rey’s definitely the one kissing him, though, kissing the tears still forming in his eyes. “I love you.”

Poe nods, appreciating the life line, needing it, but now comes more of the truth. “They weren’t done with me after that. The government said we had gone dark two weeks before they found me. I don’t remember some of it, but I remember being naked and tied to a chair with a bone showing in my leg while they electrocuted me – one fucker really enjoyed digging around in this,” Poe gestures at the scar on his stomach helplessly, and Rey’s small hand goes to cover it. He feels her trembling against him, and he covers her hand with his own. He strokes the back of her knuckles, considering the feeling of her skin under his, before he continues. “Another guy liked to think I was his personal knife sharpener. One really enjoyed water-boarding—but you know that story.” The burns on his chest from where they’d restarted his heart like he was a shitty car battery speak for themselves.

“Poe,” Rey tugs on his shoulder, and he can tell this is too much for her, but it won’t fucking stop coming now.

“I came back here, and I thought it was over, you know? But then the First Order found me, and all they wanted to do was zap me and take pictures of my brain, and test me. They wanted to know how I hadn’t broken, but I didn’t know to answer them, because I’m pretty sure I did.” He thinks sometimes that those interrogations were their own form of torture. They’d kept him awake for over a day once, and he’d broken a monitor in rage.

“Darling.” He finally looks up at Rey, who’s crying even harder than he is. Poe sits up more, and she asks, voice shaking, “Can I hold you?” He nods, reaching out for her, and they hold each other, Rey kneeling next to him, his legs still under the blanket with Bee nuzzling at his open side. “I love you, and you’re so brave, and I’m so happy you’re safe now.”

Poe nods and kisses her arm, the closest part he can reach with his mouth. “I love you too. I’m sorry to upset you.”

“Don’t apologize. Thank you for telling me.” Rey kisses his shoulder, and then behind his head on his neck tenderly.

“There’s one more thing…Luke Skywalker.” He feels her muscles lock. “Sweetheart, I know him. He … he’s the one Tekka and I were protecting. That’s why I didn’t want to talk to him. I wasn’t ready.” He stares at his half-open door and thinks quietly to himself for a moment while Rey continues to pepper him with kisses, her hands stroking his hair and face.

He remembers what Luke had managed to say to him before he fled, way back before the end of last year, when he’d shown up at Rey’s unannounced.

_“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” Luke smiled at him. “How are you feeling, kid?”_

_“I’d rather not talk about it right now,” he’d muttered._

_“I’m here when you’re ready.”_

_Poe moved to close the door, to block this man from entering their lives, because why now, when it suddenly started to seem like things would be okay (why does his fucking past have to keep catching up with them) – when curiosity got the better of him. “I do need to ask. Did you make it out in time?” Poe stared at the ground. The scar on his stomach had flared in sympathetic pain, remembering the desert._

_“Yeah, kid.” Luke’s stared evenly at his face when he looked up at him. “We all did. Three hundred kids, and their families.”_

_“I guess it was worth it, then.” Poe had bitten his lip to stop talking after that, and Rey had emerged. He left shortly after that, thankful that Luke didn’t move to follow him._

Poe can’t talk a lot after that, but Rey doesn’t question it. She pulls him into her lap somehow, and she strokes his hair until his sobs quiet. She whispers to him that he’s home, and safe. She whispers to him that he’s brave, and strong, and good.

For the first time, in her arms, he starts to believe it.

**

***

Rey heads over to the Solo house a week after Valentine’s Day, still reeling at random points in the day from Poe’s confession. He’s at work today, and he’s been smiling more, some of the lines fading from his face when he sleeps, and she feels a tentative sort of hope that’s only helped by the increasingly spring-like temperatures.

While at the house, she helps Han and Ben with a particularly cranky car and listens to classic rock, happily avoiding the responsibility of her research for an afternoon. She pops inside the house briefly to get a new washcloth, and she waves to Leia when the senator leaves for an important conference.

When she returns to the garage, Han is absent, and she sees Ben on the phone, frowning and talking animatedly. She waves at him, and he returns it half-heartedly before opening the garage door and stalking down to the end of the driveway. He hasn’t been acting mean or cruel after her accident, but she sees an almost wounded look in his eyes sometimes. Rey wonders if he came to visit her when she was in the hospital, if she said anything when she was drugged up, something incidentally hurtful.

Rey shrugs and returns to the hood of the car she’s working on. After a half an hour, she remembers that there’s something in the fridge that needs to be thawed out for dinner, per Leia’s instruction. Rey jogs back into the house to set it out. She has no idea where Luke is, but it’ll be her, Ben, and Han for dinner tonight. Contentedly pulling out pans and setting the oven to pre-heat, Rey’s whistling when she washes her hands.

She hears raised voices in front of the house, and her spine immediately stiffens. Rey creeps back out to the garage, and from the step, she watches a fight blossom that threatens to turn into an all-out screaming match.

Han is very close to Ben, and he’s pointing his finger accusingly at his son. “I just want to know what you’re getting up to on phone calls like that, kid.”

“Nothing, Dad. Let it go. Please.” Ben slips his phone into his pocket and balls his large hands into fists. Rey feels the hostility roiling between the two men.

“No, I’m not going to let it go. Tell me what’s going on.”

“I don’t have to tell you shit.” Rey can see the line of tension in Ben’s shoulders. She knows she should let them know she’s within earshot, but her muscles are frozen while she watches the confrontation. “Just. It’s not your business, okay? I don’t want you getting involved.”

“It actually _is_ my business. You’re my son, and I care about you. I don’t like you skulking around, getting up to who knows what. Ben, your mother and I are both worried about you. It was like this when you graduated from college.”

“Dad, it’s not like that at all. I’m not – I’m not like that anymore.”

“Son, It’s nothing to be ashamed of. We can get you help—addiction runs in the Skywalker family, and you don’t need to be embarrassed that you’re struggling again. That kind of shit doesn’t just go away.”

“Oh yeah, blame it on the Skywalkers. Go ahead. ‘There’s too much Vader in him.’ That’s what you told Mom, right? Before you shipped me off to rehab?” Han looks shocked and takes a step back.

“You heard that?”

“You’re damn right I heard that, Dad. I know I’m a huge fucking disappointment, I can see it whenever you look at me. But I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry I’m a fuck-up, and I’m sorry I ditched out on you guys for ten years, but _fuck._ You sent me away when I needed you. Because I didn’t need rehab, I needed _you_ , Dad.”

“Ben –”

“No! You don’t get to fucking talk now. And don’t give me that Skywalker bullshit. If addiction runs in Mom’s family, then why the fuck do your hands shake when you haven’t had a drink for an hour? Think I haven’t noticed that? It sure as shit isn’t cocaine, but you don’t get to sit up on a fucking pedestal when you’re a goddamn alcoholic.”

Han seems to be struggling with what to say next. Ben huffs an angry sigh and stomps down the driveway.

“Ben, wait.” Han calls after him weakly.

“Fuck off, Han.” Ben rips his door open. “I’m out of here, and I’m never coming back. Go ahead and explain that to Mom.”

Rey takes that as her cue to move. “Ben!” She cries angrily, running towards him.

He literally roars in frustration when he sees her. “Oh perfect, of course you heard that.”

“Don’t say that shit to your Dad, Ben. It isn’t you.” Rey fixes him with a glare and puts her hands on her hips.

Ben stares at her, looking like he’s being strangled by an invisible hand. “I think if you stick around long enough, you’ll find that this is exactly who I am _,_ Rey _._ ”

“You can’t think that. What you just said, it makes you sound like, like…” Rey fumbles with a word that fits.

He snorts. “Go ahead princess, call me a monster. God knows everyone else does.” He jumps in his seat and slams the car door shut. Rey bangs on his window angrily but he drives away quickly.

“Oh! Oh, motherfucker!” Rey curses.

She watches the car drive off, and then she sighs, turning to walk back up the driveway. Han’s still frozen in the entrance to the garage, his hand gripping the siding.

“I’m sorry, Han,” Rey says. “You shouldn’t listen to all that. I have a theory for what he’s being so secretive about, if you’d like to hear it.” She turns to look at the corner Ben just disappeared around and shakes her head. She might as well tell Mr. Solo about the First Order; this is all mostly her fault anyway.

Han doesn’t say anything. He makes an odd choking noise instead. Rey whips her head around, and sees Han clutching his chest. His knees buckle, and Rey isn’t quick enough to catch him.

“Han?” She asks, desperately. She kneels down next to him and puts her hand on his neck, trying to find his pulse. “Han? What’s wrong?” His heartbeat feels—it feels wrong. Too fast, too, too fast. _Tachycardia,_ the always cool, logical part of her brain tells her. _His heart’s about to stop._ Han grabs her arm and squeezes, eyes wide with panic, face purple-red.

“You’re going to be okay,” Rey promises, pulling her phone out. “You’re going to be okay.”

Han slumps in her arms, and she screams in frustration. Her phone is dead, of-fucking-course.

She checks his pulse again, and her stomach drops out when she can’t find one. “HELP!” Rey screams, hoping that a neighbor is home. She screams a few more times, a desperate and clawing noise that rips from her throat.

 _CPR. You know CPR. Do it. Start it._ Rey checks his throat, feels for any obstructions and now—and now—

 _What the fuck comes next?_ She doesn’t give herself more than five seconds of panic before she swallows down her fear and _moves._

Rey starts the compressions, choking through the numbers. “1, 2, 3…”

“Oh my god, what happened?” A woman is jogging up the driveway with her dog.

“His heart stopped,” Rey sobs, continuing the compressions. “Please, please call 911.”

Han remains unresponsive by the time she does the first rescue breaths. She registers the woman explaining the situation and giving the address to the paramedics. “They said to keep going,” the woman calls to Rey.

“No fucking shit,” she laughs hysterically. “Come on, Han, please.” Rey begins the second set of compressions, her still-healing forearm screaming in protest from the force behind the pushes.

She feels a bone crack under her hands, and she half-screams. It feels like an eternity, but it’s only a minute before she breathes into his mouth again.

“Don’t leave me,” she cries. _Don’t cry. Crying isn’t useful._ She’s ten years old, and her father is dead. The men who love her die in front of her. This is her fucking curse. “Please don’t leave me, Ben.”

There’s a wail from down the street – that’s strange, why is there an ambulance so close to Uncle Ben’s house? The nearest neighbor is eight miles away –

“26, 27, 28, 29,” She’s still counting, and she doesn’t know what else to do. Her hands are shaking furiously when she pinches her father’s nose shut so she can force air into his lungs one more time. _You can’t help him, you can’t even help yourself. He’s going to die, because you can’t save him._

“Breathe,” she screams. Another rib cracks under her hands, and two people wearing blue are running towards her.

Han Solo – not Ben Kenobi, Ben Kenobi died more than fourteen years ago, where the fuck is she? – chokes suddenly, a wheezing breath ripping through him. “Han!” She sobs.

“Good job, honey, we can take it from here.” A paramedic wraps an arm around Rey while her partner begins to check Han’s vitals. He signals to his partner to help him move Han onto a board.  

“No!” Rey shouts, lurching forward, fighting towards Han, still sobbing. “Don’t take him away!”

“You can come with us on the ride over, sweetie,” the paramedic soothes. “We aren’t going to separate you and your father.”

Rey’s too in shock to correct the assumption. She’ll do and agree to anything to stay by Han’s side. She isn’t leaving him. He isn’t leaving her. This doesn’t get to happen like this, not again.

**

Poe sprints into Duke Regional for the second fucking time in two months. He barely has time to remember that Bee is with him, a nurse already shouting at him, when he spies Rey curled in on herself on a shitty plastic chair in the corner of the waiting room.

“Rey!” He calls out desperately. The nurse is much closer to him now, and he rolls his eyes and fishes his wallet out, flashing Bee’s credentials at her. The nurse apologizes and walks away, and Bee blinks limpidly after her as if to say, _carry on ma’am, you’re just doing your job._

“Rey, baby, what happened?” He comes to sit next to his girlfriend, and he reaches out hesitantly. “Can I hold you?” he whispers, desperately unsure of the answer.

He doesn’t get one. She doesn’t even blink. Rey continues to stare at the ground in front of her, eyes wide and hollow.

Leia Organa Solo, who he hasn’t seen up close since he was a fifth grader and his mother freshly dead, walks towards them.

“He made it,” she says, shakily. “He pulled through. They’re keeping him under intense observation tonight, but he’s going to live.”

Poe nods at her and then looks back at Rey, waiting for her to respond.

She doesn’t blink. She doesn’t raise her eyes.

“I can’t thank you enough, Rey,” Leia puts a hand on Rey’s head, and she migrates into the touch, eyes closing. “You saved my husband’s life. He loves you so much, and now you’ve saved him. Thank you.” Rey nods, and attempts a smile. Leia settles into a chair across from Rey and exchanges a look of deep concern with Poe. Rey stares back down at the ground, and Poe sees that her shoulders are shaking, her whole body trembling. He wraps a stabilizing arm around her and kisses her shoulder.

Ben runs in two minutes later, crying. Poe stares at him in shock; he didn’t know Ben could cry. “I’m sorry,” he sobs. He drags his fingers through his long hair when he stands in front of his mother. “Mom, I’m so fucking sorry, we were fighting and I drove off, and I had no idea his heart was bad, I swear, I’m a fucking asshole.”

“Benjamin.” Leia rises and holds her arms out to her son, and he collapses into her, chest and shoulders heaving. “Your father’s going to be okay, sweetie. You can talk to him when he wakes up. I’m sure he doesn’t blame you. Personally, I blame those fucking steaks he insists on eating.”

Things really must be okay if Leia’s making jokes, and Poe breathes a little easier. Rey doesn’t.

Ben releases his mother, wiping his eyes. “I’m so fucking sorry.” When he stands up taller, he sees Rey. “Jesus Christ, scavenger, I’ll never be able to thank you.”

Rey smiles at the ground, not at Ben, and doesn’t lift her head. Poe’s seen this look. It’s a thousand yard stare. He’s seen it in hospitals, on transports, in group therapy. He’s seen it on Rey a few times, but never quite like this.

Ben kneels down at her feet and takes her hands in his absurdly large ones. “Rey? Are you okay?”

She nods, distantly and says, “I’m fine.” Her voice is hollowed, wrong, and Poe feels his gut shift uncomfortably. Ben looks at his mother over his shoulder, frowning, and then turns to Poe.

“Here, give me your phone,” Poe sticks his hand out and Ben obliges without argument. Poe types his number in. “Call me if there’s any changes. I’m taking her home.”

“Good idea,” Leia says.

“I want to stay.” Rey says, desperation creeping into her voice. “Please, Poe, don’t make me leave.”

“I’m not going to make you leave, sweetheart. I just really don’t think it’s good for you to be here all night. Please?”

Ben opens his mouth, and Poe is fit to slap him in his giant fucking teeth if he argues with him, but surprisingly he says, “Your boyfriend has a point. If dad’s stable, you don’t have to worry about going home and missing something. You can come back first thing tomorrow after you’ve slept, hero.”

Rey stands up without saying another word, and she wraps her arms around her middle as if she’s about to fall apart. She walks towards the exist, and Bee is at her heels, desperately trying to shepherd her, to nudge her reassuringly. Rey pays him no mind.

“Take care of her, Poe,” Leia says softly.

“I’ll try,” he answers, nodding at her and then Ben.

***

Rey walks to the bathroom as soon as they get to his apartment and disappears. He hears the water running, and he shuffles around in his kitchen, searching for something he can do, something he can give her or make her or provide to help her.

There’s no sound from the bathroom besides water running, there hasn’t been for a while.

He walks to the bathroom door and knocks lightly. “Sunshine?” Poe calls. “Are you alright in there?”

There’s no response. He berates himself, going back and forth for thirty seconds – does he invade her privacy? What if she’s hurt? What if she needs him? What if he upsets her more by barging in?

He hears a muffled wail on the other side of the door, and it sounds like someone being eviscerated. _Don’t think about why you know what that sounds like,_ he instructs himself, grabbing the doorknob. _Keep it together, for her._

Poe opens the door, and walks into the bathroom. He immediately notes the lack of steam on the mirror, which is odd considering the water’s been running for ten minutes.

“Rey?” He calls, walking towards the shower. “Sweetheart?” He pulls back the curtain and kneels automatically at the side of the tub when he sees her.

Rey’s sitting on the floor of the shower, head between her legs, hands laced behind her neck. She’s still – fuck, she’s still wearing her clothes, while freezing cold water dumps down on her shaking body.

Shaking’s an understatement. Rey’s trembling like she’s about to fall apart.

“Rey, baby, tell me what’s going on,” Poe demands, rolling his sleeves up and reaching for the faucet. Her cold hand reaches out and grabs his wrist. He shivers and looks at her.

“He’s dead,” she says softly, into the ground below her.

“He didn’t die, sweetheart,” Poe corrects her, heart ripping open with concern. “Han’s fine. You saved his life.”

“He’s dead,” Rey says adamantly, fingers tightening behind her head, hands sliding to cover her ears. Her fingers are starting to turn blue, for fuck’s sake.

“He isn’t. We can visit him tomorrow, he needs to rest, but he’s supposed to make a full recovery, remember?” Poe tugs on her wrist, dismayed at how chilled her skin is. “Baby, I’m going to get you out of here now.”

“Ben Kenobi is _dead_!” Rey screams, yanking her arm away from him. The only sound is the cascade of water over them. Poe feels his curls flatten against his forehead.

“Rey,” he begins and then he stops. He doesn’t know what to say to that.

“He’s dead, and it’s all my fault,” she starts to cry, weakly. Her eyes clench shut, and she covers the sides of her face with her blue and red tinged hands. “I didn’t save him. I didn’t help him. Ben’s dead, and I killed him.”

“Sweetheart, no,” Poe shakes his head. “No, Rey, you were just a little girl, that wasn’t your fault.” She sobs harder, not listening.

He doesn’t know what to do. Poe stands and yanks his socks off, and then he climbs into the shower behind Rey. His clothes are drenched in seconds, and the water is agonizingly cold. He grits his teeth against the memory of a hose spraying him mercilessly in the night air, while he tries to protect his naked body.

No. He isn’t there. Not right now. He’s here, with Rey, who needs him. Poe adjusts the water to warm and sits down behind her.

“I’m going to hold you, now,” he announces. She doesn’t fight him when he pulls her body against him. Fuck, she’s so cold. She’s going to get sick. Poe blinks away tears and holds her tighter, rubbing her hands between his and trying not to flinch in sympathy from how badly it must hurt to have the blood rushing back to her fingertips.

“I love you,” he whisper into her neck. “I love you so much, and you did so, so well today. I’m so proud of you.” Rey whimpers and collapses back further into his chest. Poe pulls them back until he’s against the shower wall, and Rey’s fully in his lap. The water is mercifully warmer, and he rubs his hand up and down her arms, trying to get her to a human temperature.

He kisses each fingertip, trying to press heat into the delicate skin. “You did so well, Sunshine,” he tells her. “I’m so proud of you.”

Rey eventually tucks her nose into his neck, and closes her eyes. Poe wraps his arms around her front, and rests his chin on her collarbone. “I love you,” he says, blinking water out of his eyes. Whether the water’s from the shower or his own, heavy crying, is hard to say. “Fuck, I love you. I got you. I won’t leave you.” He babbles promises to her, desperately hoping even one of them will stick.

She’s still trembling, but her body’s warmer, and her sobs are less frequent. He doesn’t keep track of how long they sit there, but eventually Rey twists so she’s fully in his arms, and he shuts off the water, places one hand at her back and another under her knees, and lifts them off the floor and out of the shower.

Poe sets her down carefully on the counter and quickly undresses until he’s just wearing his boxers. He kicks his wet clothes into the corner of his bathroom; he’ll worry about clean-up later. He grabs the largest towel he owns and comes back to the counter and dries Rey’s feet after peeling her wet socks off.

“Can I take your pants off?” He asks, eyeing the soaking denim warily. Rey nods, and then covers her face in her hands. Poe smiles at her worriedly and unzips her pants. “Lift your hips, sweetheart.” She complies, and he tugs her pants from her hips, and then off her legs completely, throwing them into the pile with his own clothes.

“Shirt?” Rey lifts her arms above her head, and Poe slips her t-shirt up and off of her, leaving Rey in her underwear. “Come here.” He wraps her in the towel and kisses her on the nose. “I’m going to take you to bed, now, and you’re going to sleep.”

Rey nods, eyes distant and uncaring. Poe swallows against a sob and slides her towards him. He manages to get them across the hall and he only puts her down long enough to pull back the covers. Bee is near them at all times for this process, and when Poe helps Rey lie down on her side, still wrapped in the towel in the middle of the bed, Bee jumps up and wiggles into her stomach. Poe smiles at his dog and then climbs onto the bed, behind Rey, so he can pull her against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” Rey mumbles. He can hear the tears in her voice.

“Don’t apologize.” Poe kisses her shoulder. “I love you.”

She doesn’t say it back. She’s already asleep. Poe pulls the blankets over them, and rests his head between her shoulder blades. He prays to the God he hasn’t believed in for almost two years to watch over her, to make her dreams as soft and beautiful as she is.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops
> 
>  
> 
> (basically I took three days off to write happy Regency era fluff pieces with only mild angst b/c I'm trying to butter you up for this pain fest, forgive me)


	23. I'll Stop the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey isn't doing well, and visits Han in the hospital; Poes grows increasingly worried and doesn't broach the subject very well; Ben visits Poe and tells him about the 'favor'; Rey and Rose have some girl time; Poe/Rey have a talk (and maybe ~more~)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a while since I updated this one, so take this 15-page update as an apology!
> 
> This fic is nearing the end, my friends. This chapter deals with A LOT and there are many warnings as a result.
> 
> 1: Rey struggles with severe depression after Han's near-death  
> 2: Rey accidentally injures herself on something she breaks while trying to clean it up (she isn't in a good place, isn't safe about it) Poe tells Rey some hard truths, namely he can't be her emotional caretaker (it doesn't go well and she walks out)  
> 3: Ben and Poe talk about Poe's time with the First Order; disturbing scene of torture/forced drugging/manipulation by Snoke in a video/flashback (scene in italics during that Poe POV if you would like to skip)  
> 4: Rey confronts Poe about his lack of desire to touch her -- leads to consensual sex (no condom, but Rey is on birth control)

She doesn’t feel _great_ when she wakes up the next day, that’s for damn sure.

Rey wrinkles her nose, not understanding why she’s somehow both cold and too warm – then she remembers the fight, and Han, and sweet, gentle Poe trying to wrap himself around her on the floor of his shower. She sighs, exhausted despite sleeping for ten hours, according to the clock.

It’s 7:30, which means it’s time for Bee’s walk. Sure enough, when she sits upright, the corgi is missing from his spot, and Poe’s not in bed, but the sheets on his side are still warm. Rey blinks a few times in the early morning sun and rubs the grit from her eyes. She doesn’t feel upset, anymore. She doesn’t really feel much of anything, to be honest. Except ashamed that Poe saw her break down like that. It will probably invite a lot of questions that she isn’t willing to answer right now.

Ben Kenobi’s death is honestly one of the few things she’s never touched in her past visits to therapy. She didn’t want to look at it, didn’t want to examine it. There’s something _wrong_ with her, she knows, but she figured if she moved past the trauma of Unkar fucking Plutt and his merry band of shitstain friends, she’d be fine. Rey’s competent, and a survivor, and she’s moved past so many things.

Her failure to save Ben’s life just isn’t one of them. And given that it’s forged so much of her personality, a very, very small, dark, but powerful part of herself doesn’t want to let it go. The reality that she’s a magnet for disaster and pain and awfulness is just a part of her identity, she’s sure. And now that Poe’s seen her at her absolute worst, he’s bound to have some questions.

She briefly entertains the notion of just getting dressed and slipping out the door before he comes back – her thesis defense is in less than two months, he wouldn’t question her sudden absence –but then she hears the front door open.

“Good morning, Sunshine!” Poe walks into the room a minute later, cheeks pink from the cold morning air. He sits down on the bed and smiles at Rey, tentatively.

“Morning,” Rey returns the smile, her face feeling odd and stretched out. “Sorry about last night.”

“Don’t apologize,” Poe shakes his head adamantly and holds out his hands. Rey takes them and smiles, because she can do this, she can make the sad look in his eyes go away, she can convince him she’s fine, because she’s so goddamn good at being fine.

“Okay,” Rey smiles at him again, wider now, trying to squint her eyes to make it look more authentic. It must work because Poe leans in and asks for a kiss. She gives him permission, and honestly this is easier than anything else, the physicality of the kiss helping to ground her in this moment, and not any of the dozen less pleasant moments that her brain wants to focus on. Rey kisses him back with all the strength she has, and when she remembers that she isn’t wearing anything but her underwear, she laughs, looking down.

Poe laughs too, and then offers to get her a sweatshirt. Rey responds by taking her bra off and looking at him hopefully. It had felt so normal, so nice for him to kiss her; it felt like he didn’t care so much about watching her fall apart last night, and she hopes that _more_ will make it all feel better. He hesitates though, she can feel it in the air that he hesitates.

“I’m going to,” he coughs awkwardly. “I gotta go get breakfast started. Want pancakes?”

Rey shrugs and pulls the blanket up to her chest. “Sure.” Poe smiles and leans in to kiss her forehead sweetly – _sexless,_ Rey grumbles, uncharitably, to herself – and then walks out. She hears the distant clang of pots and pans from the kitchen; feeling like there’s nothing else to do, Rey lies back down, wiggling away lazily from the wet spot on the blankets, the spot she’d fallen asleep in last night when she was still soaked from her stunt in the shower, and falls back asleep.

Her dreams are hazy, but she swears she sees Uncle Ben smiling at her from over Han Solo’s crumpled body, telling her “you did so well, flower.”

She startles awake to something wet in her face – Bee is nuzzling her chin and whining anxiously, but it isn’t just his nose that’s wet: she’s been crying in her sleep. Rey rubs her eyes and sits back up. The clock says that it’s 10:30. She’d slept for another three hours.

Poe walks by the bedroom and smiles when he sees her up. “Hey, sweetheart,” he greets her, leaning against the doorframe. His brown eyes crinkle at the corners as he looks at her fondly. “How you feeling?”

“Fine,” she shrugs. Her phone’s buzzing on the bedside table so she looks at it dispassionately.

Ben Solo [10:32 a.m.]: _Dad’s up and asking for you, if you’re up for it_

Rey [10:32 a.m.]: _Be there soon_

Fuck. She hadn’t meant to type that; she’d meant to crawl back into bed and pull the covers over her head and not respond and pretend everything didn’t exist. Rey stares at her phone and her traitorous hands.

“Who was that?” Poe asks. She feels the foot of the bed dip down, indicating that he’s come to sit near her. She wants him to hold her; she doesn’t want him to even look at her.

“Ben says his dad is awake,” she mumbles. “Wants me to come visit.”

“Okay!” His voice sounds chipper, and fake, and weird. Rey looks up and sees him smiling at her, and it looks only a little forced. “Do you want to go?”

Rey nods, not really caring. Poe smiles at her again, a little more genuine this time. He asks her about a hundred times between pulling out a spare change of clothes for her, pouring her a glass of orange juice, braiding her hair for her, and opening the car door for her, if she really wants to go.

She says, “yeah,” every single time, praying that eventually she’ll believe it herself.

***

It’s hard to see Han Solo propped up in a hospital bed, a tube helping him get oxygen, machines keeping constant tabs on his heart.

After a few minutes of idle chatter, Ben excuses himself, and his mother stands to go with him. That just leaves Rey, sitting in a chair at Han’s side, wearing her boyfriend’s too-big sweatshirt and holey jeans, staring at the floor and trying her hardest not to cry.

“Do I look that bad?” It’s Han’s gruff voice that gets her to look up.

Rey smiles at him, unsure of herself. “You’ve definitely looked better.”

“Damn,” Han sighs. “I always had my looks going for me. Take that away, and what’s left?”

“You still have really good hair,” Rey offers. It startles a laugh from Han, and she giggles once in spite of the horrible crushing fist wrapped around her heart and her thoughts.

“Thanks, kid.” Han taps the bed once, and Rey’s hand moves involuntarily to cover his. “And I don’t mean for the compliment, as lame as it was.”

Rey nods. “You don’t need to thank me,” she mutters, looking away from him again and letting go of his hand to clutch the rail of the bed.

There’s a long, brutal pause, and then:

Han’s hand comes up and cups her cheek tenderly. “You’re a good kid,” he whispers. “I wish I could have watched you grow up.”

It’s such an impossibly sweet sentiment, and at any other time in her life, she would have treasured the line unconditionally. But it’s so painfully tied up in everything that’s happened in the last 24 hours that Rey bursts into tears immediately, her hand coming to cradle Han’s.

“Oh fuck,” Han mutters. “Clearly I don’t know shit about how to talk to girls.” Rey laughs hysterically but keeps sobbing. Han opens his arms up, and Rey crawls up onto the bed, trying to avoid all the machinery and tubes hooked into him. She rests her head against his chest and cries weakly into his hospital gown. “There, there?” Han says, more a question than anything else, his large hand resting on the back of her head. Rey hiccups another laugh, and he laughs too, a soft noise that comes from his chest, more exhalation than anything else.

They sit quietly for half an hour, and Rey almost falls asleep. Han definitely does, his snores coming soft and gentle, blowing against her hair with their strength. Leia comes in towards the end, and she sits down next to Han’s bed, stretching her hand across her husband’s body for Rey to take. She holds Leia’s hand, and they both listen to the reassuring noise of Han’s heart monitor, Leia’s warm thumb brushing against the back of Rey’s knuckles. Every so often the women exchange a smile after they catch the other checking in on Han’s sleeping face.

Finn is her brother, Rose is her sister, Poe is her boyfriend, Ben is her – she doesn’t even know, doesn’t have a word for it. But Rey knows what _this_ feels like.

This feels like having parents. And it hurts more than she ever thought it would.

**

Poe doesn’t know what happened between Rey walking into the ICU and walking back out, but forty-five minutes after she kissed him goodbye, she reemerges and walks up to him silently.

Her eyes are just – they’re gone, vacant, absent. Rey isn’t home, he thinks nonsensically. She isn’t home, and he doesn’t know where she went.

Poe offers her his arm, and they walk out to the car. Poe leans over and kisses her shoulder, once, and she doesn’t even blink, just sort of shies away from the contact. He nods and opens her door. When she settles in and buckles, Bee hopping up on her lap, Poe closes the door and goes to sit behind the wheel.

He and Bee exchange a long, confused look when Rey still hasn’t moved or said anything, ten minutes into the drive back.

“Your place or mine?” Poe asks, for something to say. She shrugs and looks out the window.

His hands clench on the wheel, and his jaw locks from the tension. _What do I do? Fuck, fuck, fuck, what do I do?_

“I love you.” Poe whispers into the disturbingly still air of his car. He doesn’t get a response.

***

It goes on like this for six days.

She spends some nights with him, but as far as he can tell, she’s still awake when he falls asleep, and she’s been up for hours when he wakes back up. The circles under her eyes get darker; he cooks all her favorite foods, orders her favorite takeout – she doesn’t eat. Rey pushes the food around her plate and takes a couple bites when he knows he’s been anxiously staring at her for over five minutes.

Small talk dominates their conversations, and every response he gets from her seems like it drains her like some insidious parasite, so he stops pushing her to respond. He holds her, sometimes, but he can’t tell if she even wants that, even when she gives him permission, even when he checks fifteen times on the way to embrace her.

There’s no talking about it, really, and he’s exhausted from trying. He whispers into her hair when she lets him hug her, and he strokes her palm and asks if she’s feeling better today, and he plays guitar until his fingers are bleeding.

It comes to a horrible, horrible head one morning when she drops a plate before breakfast. “Sorry,” she says immediately. “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Poe shrugs, going to grab the dustpan. “I’ll get it.”

Rey’s already kneeling though, picking up the shards with her bare hands. “Rey,” Poe says, sharper than he wants because fuck, she’s already cut herself on a piece. “Rey, sweetheart, don’t touch that.” She flinches away from his voice, and he curses, dropping the dustpan and scooping her up, away from the mess. Rey leans against the wall and stares over his shoulder while he examines her palms. There’s only one long, jagged, shallow cut on her hand, and Poe sighs and goes to get the first aid kit.

“Sorry,” she whispers as he cleans out the cut.

“Don’t apologize,” Poe whispers back. “This is going to sting, Sunshine.” He pours some hydrogen peroxide over the cut, but she doesn’t even wince or blink.

“You shouldn’t call me that,” Rey says, instead. “It doesn’t…it isn’t right.”

“What are you talking about?” Poe asks her, concerned. Rey doesn’t answer, but he keeps talking. “You’re my Sunshine.” _My only sunshine,_ he thinks mournfully. Fuck. Not the time for Johnny Cash. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

Rey’s shaking slightly, and won’t look at him. He sees up close how dark the shadows under her eyes have gotten, how shallow her breath is. Before he can ask another question, she slides down the wall and covers her ears with her hands and mutters something indiscernible. He leans over her, heart slamming in his chest, and he finally hears what she’s whispering. “I can’t,” she says. “I can’t.” Over and over, on repeat, ad infinitum.

“Rey, baby, listen to me.” Poe kneels down next to her, knowing that he looks wild-eyed, crazed. He tugs a hand away from her ear, imploring her to take in even a tenth of what he’s about to say, all the shit that’s been boiling inside him for days, shit that’s decided that right _now_ is the best time to start pouring out. “Please – you’re scaring me. You haven’t eaten in days, as far as I can tell. You cry, all the time, when you think I can’t hear you. All I see you do is work and study and sleep. I…I want to help, really, I do, but Sunshine,” he puts his hand over his mouth, trying to figure out how to say it, there’s no good way to say this, God, he loves her, but, “I can’t be enough for you. I’m still such a fucking mess, and I’m…I’m not a therapist. I’m not trained for this. I…I think you need to see someone. I’m begging you to see someone. There isn’t any shame in it, Rey, really,” he tugs on her hand again and she lets him hold it, not necessarily willingly, more impassively, as she stares into space three inches to the side of his left shoulder. “But Rey, this can’t be living, it isn’t living. I got like this last year, and I had to check in to the hospital for 72 hours because no one was here for me until it was too late. My dad found me basically catatonic and had to drive me, a full grown fucking man, to the hospital and commit me for a psych eval. I can’t imagine how much that hurt him. Well, I can imagine now.”

He cups her jaw in his hand and begs every deity he can name for her to listen to him. “You need help, Rey. Please let me help you get that help. You aren’t you right now, and…and I can’t stop both of us from drowning at the same time. I’m just not strong enough, and it’s killing me to see you like this.”

Poe doesn’t really have anything left to say, but Rey finally does blink at his last statement.

“You don’t want me,” she whispers. “All I do is hurt you.” Having made the conclusion, something in her eyes focuses.

“What? No, Sunshine, that is the opposite of what I’m—”

“I’ll go,” Rey nods and stands up. “I’ll go, I’ll give you space.”

He jumps up with her, ignoring the groan in his lower back. “No, Rey, please listen to me, I don’t think you understood me—”

“I understand.” She offers him a watery smile. “I’m no good for you, I get it.”

“Rey _, please_ ,” and fuck, Poe Dameron’s never been a smart man because he unthinkingly reaches out and grabs her arm that still has metal in it, and Rey yelps in surprise and jerks back, her elbow knocking into the wall. “Oh fuck, no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine.” The cold smile she gives him, the absolute lack of emotion in her eyes, cuts him to the quick. “Really Major Dameron, don’t apologize.” She might as well have slapped him, the use of his rank is so sudden and bizarre, like they were just a customer and a barista again, and he’d spilled coffee on her counter, and not positively, completely ruined their relationship with his fumbling.

She walks past him quickly, ignoring the anxious whine from Bee.

“Rey, sweetheart,” Poe can’t stop her from leaving, he knows he can’t, he isn’t so far gone that he’d physically restrain her, fuck that’d make him a monster, but there she goes, pulling her shoes on robotically, and offering him a watery smile on her way out the door.

Rey doesn’t slam the door. He almost wishes she had. Anything is better than this fucking silence that descends so rapidly over his apartment, he doesn’t think he’ll ever crawl back out from underneath it.

***

A knock on his door three hours later startles Poe into motion. He’d gotten a text from Rose that Rey was home safe which is the only reason he’s barely functional and not going out of his mind with worry. He stumbles forward, heart pounding, praying that it’s Rey, that he’ll open the door and his girlfriend will be there, probably still mad as hell at him and his bumbled attempt to help her, but still there, sweet and loving and perfect as always.

It isn’t Rey.

Ben fucking Solo inexplicably stands outside his front door, and Poe almost slams the thing in his face because _really,_ what contest in hell did he win to have _this gargantuan pile of shit_ be his visitor?

“Aren’t you going to invite me in? Some of that southern hospitality?” Ben asks dryly.

“I grew up in New Hampshire,” Poe snaps.

“Live free or die,” Ben comments, throwing his hands in the air and sweeping past Poe into the apartment. Poe rolls his eyes and slams the door. He’s really not in the mood for whatever-the-fuck-this-is. The last time he’d seen Ben before Han’s heart attack, he’d confessed his love for Poe’s girlfriend. And he really doesn’t want to crack open a cold one with this jackass and talk about their mutual interest in pretty, brilliant bioengineers who moonlight as baristas.

They stand awkwardly on either side of his kitchen island, Poe near the couch, Ben near the fridge. They don’t bother with formalities; Ben launches into what he came for right away.

“Remember that favor I asked you about?” Ben asks. Poe stares at him, distrustful to the end. “It’s time, pilot.”

Poe listens, increasingly wide-eyed, to what Ben’s been up to these last few months. Collecting witnesses, recording testimonies, pulling shit from a blackmail file so deep it could be the Mariana Trench. It’s overwhelming, and Poe blinks back to reality when Ben says:

“And, I don’t want to upset you, Dameron, but, do you remember recording this?”

Ben pulls out his phone and taps rapidly. He hesitates, but then Poe sticks his hand out and Ben begrudgingly slaps the device into his palm. “It’s not…pretty,” Ben offers half-heartedly. “But I need to talk to you about this.”

 _“My name is Poe Dameron, and I fought for the United States military for ten  years. Today I want to tell you about what’s happening overseas.”_ Poe stares down at the video with a vague sense of horrified recognition building in his gut. It’s him in the video, definitely. His skin is sallow, and he looks like someone who’s seen Hell up close. He looks half-dead, wrecked, broken.

It’s dated less than a month after his return from Afghanistan.

“I don’t remember this,” Poe mumbles. He hears a soft sigh from Ben, but the version of himself in the video keeps talking, fists gripping the sheets on either side of his leg.

“ _They’re supplying them with weapons, and they don’t even care. The US government, all of them – they know that the First Order is selling this shit to the highest bidder, and they’re turning a blind eye.”_

 _“Do you have any proof, Major?”_ In the present, Poe tenses. He knows that voice now. _“Did you see anything, anyone who would be tied to the First Order while you were there?”_

_“Yeah,” Poe nods, not looking up, still staring into space, a shell of the man he used to be. “Yeah, they kept saying…something about a Snoke? I don’t speak that much Pashto, but they kept saying the word Snoke, and something about a trade, and an English word…Starkiller? And then a lot about Tekka and Skywalker. But, Snoke. Isn’t that the CEO of First Order?”_

In the video, a man walks into the frame and sits down next to Poe’s bed. The facial scarring is undeniable. Reginald Snoke leers at the man speaking but doesn’t ask anymore questions.

Poe keeps speaking, in the past, clearly half-out of his mind. “ _And I saw boxes, outside the tent, more than once. Boxes with FO’s logo on them. Crates of weapons, a fuck ton of supplies.” He shakes his head. “Why are we letting them do that? Someone needs to tell people, people need to know.”_

_“That someone won’t be you, Major, I’m afraid.” Snoke sighs heavily. “You aren’t well my boy.” He gestures to someone off-camera, and they walk forward to adjust Poe’s IV-drip._

_“No,” Poe shakes his head, desperately. “No, please, not again, I don’t want –”_

_“It’ll help you, Poe,” Snoke says soothingly. Poe tries to jerk away, tugging the needle in his arm, but several orderlies come and hold him down. “You are not well. You see things, hear things that aren’t there. It’s only understandable, after what those animals did to you. And the First Order is helping you. It’s only natural you would conflate the two, think you saw FO over there, when really we were just helping you right here.”_

_Poe shakes his head, “No. No, I know what I saw, it was—” Whatever drug they administered is clearly working in, because he groans, not quite in pain, but more in frustration. “Why are you doing this?”_

_“Because, my boy, human weakness, if properly manipulated, can be a powerful tool. And you are undoubtedly a useful tool. How did you resist for so long?”_

_“What?” Poe squints up at Snoke. “I don’t understand –”_

_“I don’t need you to understand.” Snoke leans forward and grins at him, slow and awful and slimy. “I need you to tell me where Skywalker is.”_

_“No,” Poe shakes his head viciously. “That’s classified.”_

_“Be a good boy, for once in your life Poe Dameron, and tell me where Skywalker is.” Snoke gestures off camera and someone comes to up the dosage._

_“Fuck you. You aren’t my XO.” Whatever happens next has Poe screaming in agony, clutching his head, until the camera cuts out._

“What the fuck,” Poe asks weakly. His knees tremble and he collapses against the back of the couch. The phone drops from his hand. “What the fuck did you just show me? How the fuck did you get that?”

“Not legally,” Ben says. “Figured it probably cancelled out, morally.” He studies Poe, who feels his entire body shaking. “When I found out that they were doing that to you, I quit. Threatened to go public with the whole thing, but…”

“But I had my very publicized breakdown first.” Poe laughs, weakly. “Would that have even happened if they hadn’t—” He gestures, impotently, hoping Ben will catch his meaning.

“I’m not sure,’ Ben admits quietly. “But I know they leaked the video.” Poe nods. He’d always thought it was a nurse or a doctor. But no, it was FO trying to keep him quiet, destroying his credibility. He isn’t sure if that makes it worse or not.

“I don’t even remember what I was talking about in that video,” Poe rubs his temples exhaustedly. “What the fuck do they want from me now, then?”

“I think Snoke is legitimately impressed by you, in a really fucked-up way.” Ben crosses his arms in front of his stupidly large chest. “And, if you work for them, you're implicated in all their bullshit, and you'll be under their thumb. Let's just say, I'm intimately familiar with that scenario. Also, it’s pretty obvious you’re doing better. When I saw you at the Cantina back in September, I figured you were still…”

“Throwing nurses into walls and choking people?” Poe snarls. _And he thought I’d hurt Rey. Jesus._

“Yeah,” Ben shrugs, unapologetically. “Anyway, he’s probably scared shitless that this is going to come back to you. And with this video – it’s pretty clear that they were involved in some shady shit. I have…enough witnesses by this point to admit to FO’s crimes, but if we can further undermine their credibility to the public,” he trails off, but Poe finishes for him.

“They won’t be able to recover.” He shakes his head, half-angry, half-impressed. “No one wants to see the ‘good guys’ drug and torture a wounded vet into submission, huh.”

“No.” Ben looks at him seriously, and Poe forces himself to return the eye contact. “I won’t publicize this unless you give me permission. It’ll help, but I don’t need it.”

“That’s the favor?” Poe asks, understanding finally. “You need my permission before you release that video of me…crying and being humiliated, to the public?”

“Yes.” There’s a pause, and Ben says, “Also, if you’d be willing to … give an account. About what happened to you overseas.”

“I’ve already given a statement, to the US military.” Poe reminds him.

“Classified,” Ben shrugs, which is obviously his favorite motion. “Also, it’s no secret in the military that FO trains organizations in interrogation techniques. Fuck, we taught the bad guys what we knew decades before they became the ‘bad guys.’ Not only would your testimony garner more sympathy, it would also further connect what happened overseas to the First Order.”

Poe deliberates. On the one hand, he can’t abide the idea that people will see him like _that._ The brief clip of him screaming and breaking equipment and throwing people had damaged what little had left of his dignity after it was leaked almost two years ago.

On the other hand, if he helps Ben destroy the First Order, it’ll be over. It’ll all be over, and Snoke won’t hover around his periphery like the Goddamn Creepiest Ghost of Christmas Past, and he won’t be hovering around Rey, either.

As if he’d reached into Poe’s mind and seen everything, Ben offers, quietly. “Rey’s seen it.”

“What?” Ben really should never go into a career in mental health, Poe thinks dazedly. None of this can be healthy, the calm, detached way he’s laying these bombs at Poe’s feet. “She… _when?_ ”

“She told me about it, a few months ago.” Ben rubs his jaw and looks strangely guilty. “When she told me she’d met Snoke. We talked about it a few other times, and she mentioned that when he showed her a video of you flying planes for a recruitment ad, he tried to show her this video.”

“Rey saw it?” Poe repeats, self-hatred pooling through him. _Why didn’t she tell me?_

“She said she only saw the first five seconds, and then she threw it back in Snoke’s face after that.” Ben’s clearly aiming for soothing, now. “Obviously he wanted to see what she knew, and I have no doubt he was relieved to discover you hadn’t told her about any of it, that she didn’t know anything about FO.”

“Ugh.” Poe buries his face in his hands. “I’m just—this is a lot, yeah? You come over here after I had this stupid huge fucking fight with Rey—”

“You had a fight?” Ben asks, curiously. “Sorry, sorry.” He holds his hands in the air, looking chagrined when Poe fixes him with a glare hot enough to melt steel.

“I’ll think about it,” Poe tells him, and he means it. “I’ll think about you releasing it. When do I need to make a decision?”

“Preferably in the next week,” Ben sighs. “I’d like to have this done by April.”

“I’ll have my people call your people,” Poe says sarcastically. He looks pointedly at the door, and Bee walks over and nudges Ben viciously with his nose, herding him.

“Oof, releasing the hounds, nice touch.” Ben smirks at him, and then it softens into something real. “I didn’t mean to upset you with all this, Dameron. And if you decide you don’t want anyone seeing this, I understand. You’ve…you’ve given enough.”

Poe nods, but doesn’t look away from the door. He doesn’t move again until the door closes behind Ben Solo.

**

When Rey gets home, Rose is waiting.

“Should I ask why your boyfriend just texted me to ask if you got home safely?” Rose asks from the couch, arms crossed in front of her chest.

Rey shakes her head, and thankfully Rose doesn’t question it. Her friend takes one more look at her and says, “Wanna drink some hot cocoa and look through these shitty wedding magazines Finn keeps bringing home?”

 It isn’t really a question, and Rey finds herself spending the next two hours with a Sharpie in her hand, circling ideas and dog-earing pages of what feels like hundreds of highly-glossed, classy catalogues.

“What do you think about fuscia?” Rose asks, wrinkling her nose at a so-called ‘80’s dream wedding.’

“Pfbbbbttt.” Rey makes a half-hearted fart noise, and gives a hearty thumbs down.

“Agreed.”

Eventually they decide that the best wedding would be one with less than twenty people in attendance, an open bar, and plenty of mozzarella sticks.

“Somehow I don’t think that’s going to satisfy groomzilla,” Rose sighs, tossing _Deluxe Bride_ onto the coffeetable. “I don’t even know who he thinks we’re going to be inviting to this thing – we don’t have any family, and everyone we know works at the coffee shop.”

Rey grunts in agreement. “He just wants to make you happy,” she says. “Even if he doesn’t always know how to do that.”

“Who does that sound like?” Rose taps her chin in mock-thought and Rey waits for the obvious answer. “Oh! I know! He’s like 5’9”, dreamy eyes, great hair, and an even better ass—”

“Hey!” Rey pushes Rose lightly. “You’re marrying Finn.”

“Yeah, I am!” Rose grins happily. “But seriously, Rey, what did you and Poe fight about? His text sounded weird.”

“I’m not sure it was a fight,” Rey fidgets uncomfortably. She’s still so fucking tired from the conversation she had with Poe, and there’s so much going on. Before she knows it, she’s crying with her head in Rose’s lap and pouring it all out. It’s like the stomach flu, except it’s fucking emotions and not vomit. Rey’s definitely sure she would prefer vomit.

“Okay.” Rose nods at the end. “Okay, that’s uh…that’s a lot.”

Rey nods, sniffling. Rose strokes her hair comfortingly, and Rey leans into it, her hands tightening on Rose’s leg subconsciously.

“First thing’s first – Poe’s right, honey. You should talk to someone.” Rey knows Rose and Poe have a point, but she can’t stop the groan of protest in her throat. “Do you want me to schedule the appointment? I can drive you there, too, if you want. Wait in the office for you?”

“Yes please,” Rey whispers, miserable at the thought of inconveniencing her.

“I can hear you from here,” Rose chirps indignantly. She leans over Rey to grab her laptop. “Here, let’s look at doctor Yelp, see if we can find you a hot doctor to talk to.”

“Rose,” Rey laughs, wiping her eyes. She sits up and swats at her friend.

“You prefer a not-hot doctor?” Rose asks, typing merrily away and ignoring Rey poking her. “Cool, we can find you a not-hot-doc, I’ll just plug in that you prefer them older.” She winks evilly at Rey, who lunges for the laptop. Rose calls so Rey doesn’t have to, the anxiety still too much, and she schedules an appointment with Dr. Maz Kanata for two days from now – she was highly rated and had a miraculous opening in her schedule. When Rose googles a picture of the therapist after she hangs up, she proclaims, “definitely your type, Rey-Rey!”

Both of them are still laughing when Finn walks in.

“This can’t be good,” Finn looks between the two of them, sighing. “What did you do now?”

“Nothing!” Rose sings, blowing a kiss at him from the couch. “How was your day?”

“Good!” Finn says, kicking his shoes off. He holds up at least ten magazines. “Found some more catalogues to look through, Rosie!”

“Oh…good…” Rose says, absolutely straight-faced.

Rey giggles behind her hand, and then they’re both laughing again.

“What?” Finn asks, dismayed. “It’s important to plan, you guys! _We’re planning an autumn wedding! That’s only seven months from now!”_

It’s been a shitty couple days, and the weight isn’t fully gone from her chest, but Rey can’t deny how much she loves her friends.

**  
***

Rey comes over on Tuesday, and she looks slightly more _Rey._ Her eyes are less shadowed, and her hair is clean and she’s wearing a pretty sundress to match the early warm weather; he hates that he hasn’t seen her in days, but clearly it agrees with her. That doesn’t sit well with him. _She’s going to leave you,_ his brain supplies unhelpfully.

It doesn’t matter: he needs to tell her about Ben and the First Order because they can’t hide shit from each other anymore, even if she does want to leave him. He needs to be honest with her: that’s why he asked her over today.

“Thanks for coming,” Poe says quietly, after they sit down on the couch “We need to talk.”

And ain’t that the truth: it’s been five days since their fight, five days since Ben Solo showed up and knocked Poe’s world upside down. For five days he’s been burning alive, desperate to tell all of it to the woman he loves. He just hasn’t wanted to push her; the last weeks have been difficult enough. 

“I figured.” Rey whispers, clutching her knees so hard her knuckles turn white. Poe looks at her, confused.

“You know what I want to talk to you about?” Poe guesses Ben could have let something slip; it’s been five days, and he may have assumed Poe already told Rey. A more-together boyfriend would have.

“Yeah. I know. You don’t want to be with me anymore.” Rey doesn’t look over at him.

“What?” Poe’s absolutely blind-sided. She sounds so sure of her statement. “That’s not –Sunshine, I thought maybe you didn’t want to be with me anymore, I’ve… we’ve barely spoken since our fight.”

“That wasn’t a fight,” Rey says tiredly. “I was in a bad place, you were right. I signed up for therapy, though, twice a week. I went yesterday. And it was really fucking painful.”

“I’m glad you’re seeing someone,” Poe says, earnestly. He really means it, but, “Rey, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you won’t let me tell you anything!” She looks livid, suddenly, and he startles. “You just…ask me what you can do for me, and you try to rub my feet and run me baths and you treat me like glass.” She clenches her fists, and although she’s pissed at him, Poe’s so relieved to see emotion on her face that he can’t really care. “I regret being vulnerable in front of you. I hate that you saw me like that because now that’s the only way you can see me, and you don’t want me anymore.”

“That isn’t true, Rey,” Poe protests.

“Yeah? Then why haven’t we had sex since Han’s heart attack?”

There’s an awkward pause. Rey curls in on herself, wrapping her arms around her middle, cheeks flushed but eyes still angry. Poe blinks in absolute confusion. _What?_

“I didn’t….I didn’t think you’d want to…” Poe stutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “I figured it’d be too much.”

“For you or for me?” Rey’s eyebrows lift to an almost comic height.

 _Both of us._ “I don’t know,  you? I didn’t want to push you, and then I thought you were furious with me, and you walked out on us, and you were so…”

“So what?” Rey demands, eyes flashing. “I was so _what,_ Poe? Broken? Pathetic? Fragile? Because it seems to me you just made a lot of assumptions. I was in a bad place, yeah, but now I’m not so much anymore, not more than usual.”

“I – I –” Poe has no fucking idea what to say next. They’re both standing, now, looming over the coffeetable, Rey getting steadily louder, and Poe feeling more and more at a loss for words. “Tell me what you need, that’s all I want to do, I want to give you what you need.”

“I need you, Poe,” Rey cries, angrily. “Goddamnit, I need you. I hate that I need you, I hate needing anything, and I hate saying it out loud.” She wipes her nose on her sleeve and even that manages to look angry. “Please, please don’t make me say it again.”

“Sweetheart.” Poe swallows and grabs her hand. He pulls it to his mouth and kisses her knuckles, and then places their entangled hands over his heart. “What is it you need from me?”

“Just _you_ ,” she whispers. “I just need you. I need my boyfriend, not a caretaker, not a therapist, not a martyr who fusses over me and tries to – to fix shit. Because you were right, I need to talk about this with a therapist, but I’m not going to break if you touch me in the meantime. I know what I can handle, if you would just, just _trust_ me.”

“I do trust you,” Poe insists. “I trust you, Rey, like I’ve never trusted anyone else. I just don’t want to make things worse. You scared me, sweetheart. It really fucking scared me to see you like that.”

“I’m sorry.” Rey’s crying, and that is the literal opposite of what he wanted.  

“No,” he murmurs, pulling her close to his body and wrapping his arms around her. “No, don’t apologize to me, not for this. I’m sorry, I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you, I’m sorry I assumed I knew what was best—”

“You’re bossy,” Rey sniffs. “That isn’t new.”

“Yeah, I’m bossy,” Poe acknowledges, laughing despite how badly he wants to sob into her shoulder.

“And you have some control issues,” Rey comments, kissing his collarbone, her face tucked in to his chest.

“Confirmed,” Poe laughs more genuinely at that. “God, who’s your therapist? One session, you got me all figured out.”

“I figured that out a while ago, Major.” She teases him. The use of his rank reminds him – he’d called her over here to talk to her about First Order, about Snoke, about:

Rey kisses his neck, and it’s definitely less than innocent.

“Rey,” he groans warningly. She merely presses another hot, open-mouthed kiss to his neck. “Rey, there’s a lot more we need to—”

“Later,” she promises. “We can talk about this later, I promise.” Poe groans again and pulls back to kiss her for the first time in days.

“I love you,” she tells him. God, he’ll never get tired of her saying that. It rips him open just as much as it pulls things back together, things he thought couldn’t be fixed.

Rey isn’t here to fix him, he reminds himself, just as much as he isn’t here to fix her. That’s not what this is. This is – this is more than that.

“I love you,” he gasps into her neck. He kneels halfway so he can grab her behind her knees and pull her up until she’s resting her weight on his hips.

“Take me to bed,” Rey commands him. Poe grins up at her, trying to get used to this sudden rush of happiness, something he hasn’t felt in days. They stumble towards his room, Rey slipping in his arms more than once as he tries to touch her, tries to get his hands all over her body while holding her up. They laugh wildly when they finally get in his room, and Poe kicks the door shut behind them. Bee howls at the door, tiny paws scratching at the wood.

“Not tonight, dog,” Poe calls through the door, smiling up at Rey. She smiles back, tears in her eyes, and God he can’t have that. He sits on the bed, keeping her on his lap, her knees resting on either side of his hips.

“Poe,” Rey says, worry in her eyes. Poe shakes his head.

“I know where I am,” he tells her. “I’m exactly where I want to be.”

She smiles at him and then she’s kissing him, and he needs to tell her he loves her, he needs to show her, fuck, he’ll never love anything or anyone the way he loves her.

“I know,” Rey laughs. “I feel it too.” _Oh, he said that all out loud._ She nips his neck playfully, and his hands come to her waist and he squeezes, forgetting to be careful. Rey moans in response, not seeming to care about his own carelessness, and soon she’s grinding down on his lap, mouth slanted over his once more.

It’s a blur of movement and rapturous joy and before he knows it, Rey’s unzipping his pants, asking “is this okay?” and he’s nodding fervently because there’s never been anything more okay than this.

“Condom?” He asks, already shifting so he can dig through the drawer of his bedside table. Rey shakes her head and bites her lip.

“I’ve been thinking about it, and I really don’t want to use one,” she says shyly. “Unless you do.” Poe can’t help it; he bucks his hips up towards her, seeking friction, Rey, anything, and she strokes his cock gently, having freed it from his boxers. She kneels up slightly on the bed, tugging at his pants, and he lifts his hips so she can pull them down to his knees.

Poe takes a shaking hand off her small waist and guides it under the skirt of her dress, moving her underwear out of the way timidly, but then more bravely when he hears her encouraging gasp. It doesn’t take long for her to be ready, ready and perfect, and they work together to angle her over him.

Rey sinks down, her mouth parting in a small ‘o’ of surprise at the sensation. “It feels different this way,” she marvels.

“Yeah,” Poe groans. It’s just – she’s so hot and wet and fuck there’s no way he’s going to last long. “Yeah it really does.” She laughs at what’s probably the world’s stupidest look on his face, and then she lifts herself up experimentally and drops back down, twisting her hips by some incredible instinct. “Fuck!” Poe almost shouts from it. “Where did you learn how to do that?” He asks, grinning at her. He has the presence of mind to leave one hand on her waist to help her balance, the other going to stroke her clit in time with the pace she’s established.

“Porn,” Rey shrugs, panting slightly. “And the internet.”

“Oh God,” Poe moans, mind drifting to the idea of her doing research on her own. “Oh, don’t tell me that.”

“Hmm, I’ll tell you later then,” Rey shrugs, her strong thigh muscles standing out in sharp relief when Poe looks down, his mouth permanently open in pleasure and surprise and awe.

“I love you,” he remembers to say, finally. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” He says it each time she moves, so he says it a lot.

“Yeah, yeah,” Rey smiles at him and kisses him. It’s impossibly sweet and gentle, her hands on his shoulders even as she drives him wild with her pace and the perfect heat of her body. “I love you too, flyboy.”

He’s been called that a lot of times in his life, and he’s rejected the label for almost two years now, but it sounds so loving in her mouth that Poe feels his heart tighten. He grins at her, cockily. “I was the best pilot in the Air Force,” he informs her, both hands on her waist now. “I can fly anything.”

“Oh, really?” Rey asks cheekily. “That I’d like to see.”

“Wilco,” Poe winks at her, and then plants his feet on the ground for proper leverage. The pace picks up ridiculously after that, and Rey’s laughing at him still when she comes, clenching down hard on him, her hands scrambling at his shoulders, her feet tucked into his thighs, hanging off the bed. “Told you,” he says triumphantly, still driving up into her. Sweat pours off his brow, and he feels ten years younger. “Now let’s see if we can land this bird again.”

“You did not just refer to my— as a -” Rey laughs, clearly still high as a kite from her orgasm. “That’s it.”

She twists to reach down and does something _very_ unfair, and Poe’s coming with a shout of his own. He collapses back on the bed afterward, and Rey follows him. He enjoys the feeling of being inside her, even though the shivers of her own aftershocks are almost too much on his over-sensitive dick.

“I love you,” he says wonderingly, stroking a hand down her back. He grumbles when he remembers they never took her dress off, a little disappointed that he isn’t touching her bare skin.

“Love you too,” Rey answers, kissing his clothed chest over his still-pounding heart. “But what do we do about…” She gestures down at where they’re still joined.

“Yeah,” Poe laughs. “Give me a second and then we can go to the bathroom.”

“Romantic.” Rey nuzzles into his chest more, and Poe wraps his arms around her, curling up slightly to kiss the top of her head.

“Always,” he tells her cheerfully.

He needs to tell her about the First Order, next, but this—they can have this moment of happiness. Poe closes his eyes and just floats in it a little longer.

They can have happy. That’s what all this is for: they can both finally be happy, the way they deserve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops


	24. Let the Past Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NYT Article

The New York Times

Vol. CXLVII, No. 58,291

April 10, 2019

“Treason in America’s Back Yard: First Order Faces Charges in the First Degree”

_The First Order, or ‘FO,’ the military-industrial conglomerate, is under national scrutiny after former CFO, Benjamin Solo, has come forth with allegations of embezzlement, insider trading, connections to terror groups, and treason._

_The FBI confirmed their investigation after news broke last night online of FO’s involvement overseas in a series of terror attacks against refugee organizations. Peace worker and son of the late President Amidala, Luke Skywalker, confirmed his own narrow escape from an attack funded by the First Order._

_“I feel comfortable saying that it was the First Order who suggested an armed militia move on my group in March of 2017,” Luke said at a press conference early this morning in Washington D.C. “We had been protecting a network of families with parents tied to land and various organizations the First Order has made clear are in the way of the company’s interests for years now. If it weren’t for the sacrifices of brave men and women, hundreds of people, mostly children and innocents, would have died.”_

_One such brave soldier is Major Poe Dameron, resident of Raleigh, North Carolina, who was discharged from the Air Force two years ago after being held as a prisoner of war for two weeks in Afghanistan. Disturbing footage was released with Ben Solo’s earth-shaking announcement yesterday, footage that shows Reginald Snoke, CEO of the First Order, forcibly administering debilitating drugs to the veteran, and demanding classified information._

_Major Dameron spoke at the same press conference as Skywalker._

_[Photo caption: Maj. Poe Dameron, POW, addresses questions from press at conference on Apr. 9, 2019.]_

_“I don’t remember much, but I can confirm that Snoke personally threatened me and my loved ones this past year, to encourage me to keep quiet about what I might remember,” Dameron announced. “The things that were done to me, to my unit, to my friends: they were unspeakable, and you can see from the video that they didn’t stop when I came back to American soil.”_

_This was Dameron’s first public appearance since a video went viral in April of ’17 of his shockingly violent breakdown while in recovery. It is now widely hypothesized that this breakdown was directly related to the unknown cocktail of drugs administered to him as part of the First Order’s continued crimes._

_Doctor Rig Nema, NYT contact who reviewed the case file sent out by Ben Solo, points out a discrepancy that was only hinted at during the press conference yesterday: Major Dameron had returned to the United States a full five days before his official paperwork says he had._

_This means that “he was most likely in the care of the First Order for those five days, being refused proper treatment, and further subjected to what any reasonable person would call torture,” Nema said in an email sent to the Times this morning. The video released by Solo and his team will not be available on the Times website, out of respect for the man featured in the clip; the Editorial team decided that it was inappropriate and distracted from the true intent of this meeting, to shine a light on an American hero, and to bring justice to an insidious force in our country._

_When Times reporter Claudia Gray asked if he was ready to receive the mantle of ‘hero’ once more, Dameron was recorded laughing, and said, “The heroes on that mission received flags, ma’am, and the heroes in my life now are the people who support me daily.”_

_The press conference was further rocked by the presence of retired Major General Amilyn Holdo, whose purple hair has already generated a wild online following (See Style, page 3). Holdo, who has long stood in defense of Dameron, detailed the connections between the First Order and the United States Military, providing a timeline of trades and deals that trace back to the company’s inception thirty years ago._

_Holdo dropped the proverbial mic at the end of her speech when she announced, “This [expletive]’s been in the works since Amidala left office; former President Palpatine signed an Executive Order that allowed for this malfeasance; the generals of the military were closest to the uncomfortable knowledge that we were in bed with monsters. It was wrong for us to turn our back on this for so long, and it was shame and threat of treason charges that kept many of us from coming forward. Accidents met those that were brave enough to try to step up, assassinations that I’m sure will come to light in the following months. Now, with a month left to live, I have nothing left to lose, so [expletive] it; I’ll take them down with me.” Holdo punctuated the end of her statement by removing her wig, revealing a bald head, and a merry use of both middle fingers._

_After the press had quieted down following the bombshells, it was Luke Skywalker who once more took the stage to offer the following words of wisdom. This writer thinks we would all do well to listen:_

_“It’s time for this to come to an end. We need to move forward in balance, and to study the darkness of our past with clear eyes. To be ashamed of our wrongdoing is only natural; the discomfort that will come from a lengthy, national reflection is necessary for us to move forward, into a new age of serenity and honesty. There is no ignorance now; there can only be knowledge. And hopefully, then, we will have peace.”_

_ See our online edition for hourly updates on this story _ _._

_**_

**_Editor’s Note_ ** _: Benjamin Solo, known as ‘Kylo Ren’ in all documents released, which are currently available on our digital site, is expected to face reduced jail time in exchange for his work in uncovering the First Order’s illicit actions. See page 1 of ‘Opinions’ for a head-to-head argument regarding the necessity for Solo being charged in wake of his whistleblowing: Garcia ‘pro,’ and Simpson, ‘against.’_

 

Rey folds the newspaper and breathes deeply through her nose. She is so, so proud of Poe, and it kills her that she wasn’t able to be with him for the press conference. But, he’d ridiculously insisted on doing it by himself, and Ben had sworn to keep an eye on him. Her thesis defense is in three weeks, and Poe had protested against her spending unnecessary time away from her work.

It’s after 8:30, and Open Mic Night is in full swing. Rey hasn’t paid attention to a second of it; she’s covering for Finn and Rose while they attend some bridal expos – “For the free samples!” Rose had exclaimed, while Finn frowned in the background – and her thoughts constantly drift to her handsome, brave pilot.

The bell over the door chimes, and Rey forces herself to stand upright and smile at the new arrival as the ukulele twins perform – jury’s still out if they’re related or not – but it’s only a second before her smile accelerates into something real and uncontrollable.

Poe stands in a pair of khakis and a green t-shirt, his long, dark hair curling over his ears.

“What are you doing here?” Rey asks, dazedly when he walks up to the register.

“It’s Wednesday, isn’t it?” Poe asks, grinning at her. Rey nods, and he holds his guitar case up, guiltily. “Had Connix sign me up for the 8:45 slot, my plane landed an hour ago.”

Rey blows him a kiss before he walks to the stage: the crowd screams in recognition as he settles himself up on the stool.

“This should come as no surprise, but my first song is dedicated to the pretty girl behind the bar,” Poe announces into the mic. Rey rolls her eyes at him, but rests her weight on the counter, smiling at him fondly. His skilled fingers begin to flow over the strings of his instrument; it’s obviously a love song, like always. “I should say, in the interest of honesty,” Poe says, still playing, “All my songs are dedicated to the pretty girl behind the bar. Love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you too!” She shouts, without second thought, without a care for the dozens of eyes that fix on her after the outburst.

Poe’s still laughing as he begins to sing.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all
> 
> This ridiculous coffeeshop fic is almost over. Coming chapters will be entirely fluff or smut or some combination. 
> 
> We made it, fam.


	25. A Feeling No One Can Ever Reprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's in love and very little hurts 
> 
> ~Rey/Poe continue to develop and grow together  
> ~Poe has a question for his girlfriend  
> ~Discussion of PhD programs  
> ~A funeral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff
> 
> (Amilyn Holdo's death is referenced, that's about the only warning I can think of besides mild, implied sex)

The spring is finally, fully here, and Rey hasn’t been this happy, ever.

Poe smiles more readily now, the sadness that used to crowd at the corners of his eyes fading all the time; Finn’s graduating with his Bachelor’s in a month; the Resistance is doing great, and Rose is actually highlighting bridal magazines, to her fiancée’s intense joy; and, Ben’s sentence is greatly reduced, so he gets basically a slap on the wrist – probation and house arrest.

Han and Leia are privately thrilled – actually, really bad at hiding how thrilled they are – to have their son home, all the time, and when Rey goes to visit, Ben pretends to be smothered when his mother lays kisses on his forehead and brings him his favorite foods out in the garage, or when Han cracks the fifteenth dad joke of the day, but Rey sees the pink tinge on his ears and the tops of his freckled cheeks, and know that he’s also, quietly, thrilled.

In mid-April, she’s cleared to ride her bike and longboard again.

“God, Rey, please don’t ride that thing,” Poe begs her one morning before they leave his apartment. She’d slept over, again, which is now a regular occurrence (she isn’t even sure what she’s paying rent for at her own apartment), and she’s got a meeting with her advisor in town, not on campus. “I’ll give you a ride whenever you want, I’ll fund your Uber account, I’ll do anything, please, please, don’t get back on that thing.”

“It’s not your choice, Major,” Rey snaps. “I’m not going to break that easily, and besides, I’ve ridden this thing for years.”

“And you’ve had two concussions and a broken wrist, just from falling off of it,” Poe points out. It’s a logical argument, and it makes sense, and he’s definitely right, which is why she throws her hands in the hair, gives a strangled shout of frustration, and storms away.

She’s fuming in the front room when he emerges from the bedroom.

“Behind you,” he whispers, and then his arms are around her middle, his face pressed into her neck. “I’m sorry, Sunshine, I don’t mean to be pushy.”

“No,” Rey covers his hands with her own and squeezes. “No, Poe, you were right. I’m sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just… not used to people looking out for me, still.”

Poe nods, but doesn’t move from his position. He presses his lips into the base of her throat, sighing heavily and tightening his arms around her. “I love you, and I want you to be safe, sweetheart, but I trust you.”

“I know,” Rey whispers, stroking the exposed part of his forearms. He’s wearing a t-shirt, and she privately hopes he won’t pull his jacket – as attractive as he looks in it – on over it. It’s warm today, and with his mood and anxieties improving all the time, she wants her boyfriend to be comfortable in his own skin, out in public.

Poe drops another kiss onto her neck and walks away to the bathroom. She spends a solid five minutes staring at her longboard leaned up against the wall before she groans, snags it, and then drags it over to the bathroom door. She knocks, and waits for her boyfriend, who’s most likely a third of the way done with his lengthy daily beautification process (“It takes effort to look this good, Rey!” He’d protested once, when she called him on it. He really didn’t appreciate her subsequent accusation that he was actually taking forever because he was pooping. Really didn’t).

He opens the door a second later, smoothing his curls into place. “You leaving, Sunshine?” He asks, smiling softly, a little sad in the eyes, like he’s waiting for her to yell at him some more. Rey takes a deep breath, imagines physically smoothing out her rough edges on a sander, and hands him the longboard. He takes it, surprised, eyebrow quirked in a question.

“Will you give me a ride, Poe?” She asks, shuffling her feet.

His answering smile is joyous, and it makes her feel like she did the right thing. He returns to his hair styling (ridiculous, adorable man), and Rey hears him whistling through the now-open door as she goes to put her shoes on.

She reflects quietly, chin in her hand, sitting on the chair near the front door, while she waits for him to finish up. After all, she honestly surprised herself when she gave in to his request.

If he’d just been bossing her around, she’d be pissed, or stubborn, or resentful. But Poe wants what’s best for her, always; and honestly she really should start taking care of herself more.

It’s funny, really, and maybe unhealthy – her therapist asked her to talk about it the other day: but, being with Poe makes her feel a little more like she _should_ be taking care of herself. It makes her feel like her life is something that she should be undertaking with a little more caution and attention.

Rey’s friends love her, she knows, but they always let her get away with stupid crap when they shouldn’t. Poe pushes her a little more; he relents when he can tell it’s important to her, but he tries to take care of her, in the least suffocating way possible, and he tries to encourage her to take care of herself.

There’s a number of things Poe Dameron does that Rey would have smacked someone for trying a year ago. He holds doors for her, begs her to put a hat on when she goes outside in the cold with her hair still wet, drives her to school when she’s tired, insists that she get eight hours of sleep before exams, refuses to let her get into fights on the street with rude businessmen who litter (“Just this one time, God, Poe, let me at him,” “No, Sunshine, I do not do conjugal visits, no matter how good you look in orange ”), and cooks for her when she’s had a shit day, without her even having to say a word.

Poe Dameron is good, and kind, and everything she never let herself want, and God, does she want this with him.

So, when her boyfriend emerges, just as pretty as he was when he started, if a little more smoothed out, she smiles at him, and says, “I love you.” His smile is the warmest thing in the world, and when he strides over to pull her up from the chair and kiss her senseless, her main thought is that she can’t believe it’s _her_ whose nickname is Sunshine.

***

Rey defends her thesis successfully, to rousing applause from the four professors who blessedly did not fall asleep during her presentation. Poe, Finn, and Rose sit in the back with expressions varying from confused (Finn) to thoughtful (Rose) to impressed (Poe, _and_ there’s definitely an indication in his smirk that he’s found the whole thing very attractive, which makes her blush), but they’re all proud, so incredibly proud of her, and it hurts in a good way.

She cries in the bathroom during her congratulatory dinner. Leia and Han and Kes had also shown up as a surprise, invited by her friends, and they’d brought her flowers and cards -- and it’s all a little too much.

Rey’s never had anyone – not a single person sat in the stands for her at her first graduation – and now six people she loves are waiting to celebrate with her.

She emerges, dry-eyed, five minutes later after she pulls herself together, and sits back down. When Bee huffs a sigh and puts his head on her feet, she looks down at the Corgi and trades a conspiratorial wink with him, letting him know that she’s okay.

They spend the rest of the dinner swapping stories about college – apparently Han really did tell his old aeronautics professor to go fuck himself after they disagreed on the best way to land a plane in hurricane conditions, and then almost got arrested trying to _prove_ the best way to land a plane in hurricane conditions – and Rey thinks it should be illegal, being this happy.

But, she sits in a happy, warm, golden bubble made by her loved ones, and it shows no sign of going away; Rey tells herself that this is her life now, and she deserves it. After dinner, she, Finn, Poe, and Rose head back to their apartment and drink decaf, still talking and laughing, until two in the morning. When Finn and Rose doze off on top of each other on the couch, Rey smiles at them and takes her boyfriend’s hand, biting her lip as she leads him to her room.

She runs to the bathroom, excusing herself, and Poe settles in on the pillows.

“Poe?” She whispers upon her return two minutes later. She pops her head into her room and grins at her boyfriend, who had nodded off slightly.

He jerks back awake and smiles at her. “Yeah?”

“You gonna fall asleep?” Rey teases him.

“Mhm,” Poe nods, eyes drooping back shut. He leaves them half-open and holds his hands out, making a grabbing motion at Rey. “Wan’ you to come here, first.”

“Can do,” Rey giggles. Then, she steps fully into the doorway and leans against the frame. “But, Major Dameron, I must confess: I was sort of hoping we wouldn’t sleep right away.”

Rey takes visceral pleasure in the way Poe sits up, automatically, all signs of exhaustion gone from his face. His jaw _drops,_ and isn’t it nice that she now fully understands that phrase? Rey doesn’t regret her choice of sleepwear – red, lacy, with some highly impractical, if pretty, cut-outs – in the least.

“See something you like?” Rey asks him, draping herself dramatically against the door frame.

“Yes ma’am.” The low light of her bedside table catches on the glint in Poe’s eye. “Permission to pick you up, carry you over to this bed, and then show you how much I like it?”

She pretends to think it over. “Hmm. Permission granted, flyboy.” Poe’s off the bed and scooping her up eagerly before she can even blink.

They both laugh the whole time, until they’re not laughing, and when Rey scratches her nails down Poe’s back, she has to slap a hand over her mouth so she won’t wake her roommates up while screaming her boyfriend’s name.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Poe whispers, nosing along her sweaty hairline. “Love you, Sunshine.”

“Love you too, Poe,” Rey smiles at him, and then it’s slower and sweeter until they both find their release, sighing, not shouting, and Poe kisses her for at least three minutes before relenting so she can go to the bathroom.

He’s completely passed out when she comes back, and Rey rolls her eyes fondly at him before yanking his abandoned t-shirt over her head and crawling into bed next to him.

Life has never been better, and she isn’t even going to question or worry about when the other shoe is going to drop, and all of this happiness is going to go away.

No, Rey Niima is happy, and she isn’t going to fight it. Not anymore.

***

Briefly, it feels like the universe _is_ gearing up to fuck her over when Rose and Finn sit her down a few weeks later, in mid-May.

What follows is a slightly awkward conversation about how they love her, they’ll always love her, but they’ve been thinking about moving into a single apartment before the wedding, and their lease is up soon, and what does Rey think about not having them as roommates anymore?

They both stumble through it endearingly, and Rey honestly isn’t offended or even really surprised. She didn’t think her friends would want a roommate after they got married, and she’s already talked about the feeling of abandonment with Maz. Now, she logically understands – and emotionally, too, surprisingly – that it’s not a statement on her, but rather a healthy indication that her friends want to build their life and their relationship separately, the way married couples do.

“That’s not a problem at all,” Rey says honestly. “Don’t worry. But, I will have to come over and visit you, all the time.”  


To her actual surprise, it’s Finn that bursts into tears. “Whenever you want, Rey-Rey,” he sobs, lurching forward and hugging her around the neck. “Come over all the time, we’ll dedicate the pull-out couch to you.” He sniffs into her shirt, and Rey pats his back awkwardly, exchanging a weirded-out look with Rose, who shrugs as if to say ‘my future husband is absurd.’

Rey excuses herself half an hour later – it’s shocking, really, how many photo albums Finn has and is now stubbornly, nostalgically demanding they go through – and heads over to Poe’s for dinner.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he greets her when she knocks on the door.

“Hey, handsome,” Rey answers easily, taking his hand. He’s not wearing his jacket, just a nice polo shirt tucked into jeans that are tight enough to make Rey wonder how much force is going to be required to get them down his muscular thighs (and God, she hopes he lets her find out), and they walk down the stairs together, deciding to walk to the restaurant, given how nice it is outside.

Bee trots along at their side, his leash held loosely in Poe’s right hand – Poe holds Rey’s hand with his left. Rey quirks her head at a “lease now” sign in front of a row of hedges and says, “Do you think I should live there?”

“Where?” Poe asks, following the line of her finger. “Huh, I don’t know, Sunshine, that bush is awful nice, but nearly as nice as your apartment.”

“Finn and Rose want to move into a single,” Rey explains, shrugging. “So I need to find a new place.”

“Oh,” Poe says, thoughtfully. His thumb rubs anxious circles over her knuckle, and he’s suspiciously silent for the next few minutes.

When the imagined noise of the gears of his brain grinding becomes too distracting, Rey says, “What are you thinking about, Dameron?”

He laughs, and blushes. _Interesting._ “Nothing, nothing,” he answers.

“Po-oooe,” Rey wheedles. “Come on, tell me.”

“Um, well, I was thinking – no, it’s – I just—maybe if you would need somewhere to live, you know, um –”

“Poe Dameron, I know I am very smart, but I am not a mind reader,” Rey reminds him, shaking his hand in hers. “Just say it.”

They come to a halt on the sidewalk, facing each other under the shade of a sycamore. “Move in with me.” Poe says, eyes wide earnest. “You should move in with me.” _Oh._ That’s honestly the best idea, ever, and Rey’s about to agree enthusiastically, but Poe still has this all-consuming need to explain the ideas rattling around in his head, so he rambles, “I know you can afford your own place, and I know my apartment isn’t much, and I know you probably have a hundred and one better ideas than settling down with a scruffy pilot but—”

“Poe,” Rey laughs. “Poe, I’ll move in with you.”

“Yeah?” He looks at her, still anxious. Rey nods, smiling, and keeps nodding, when he grins widely and shouts a wordless exclamation of excitement. “Yeah? Really?”

“Yes, Poe, yes, of course.”

He whoops with elation and picks her up off the ground, hands around her waist. Poe spins them in a circle once, and then sets her down so he can kiss her silly. “I love you,” he says happily.

“I love you too,” Rey says. “Roomie.”

Poe makes a noise not unlike a groan, and buries his face in her neck. Rey can tell that he is very, _very_ excited, but she pokes him in the side to distract him from that train of thought. “Poe, can we still eat?”

“Yes!” He jumps away from her and snags her hand again, pulling her hand up to kiss her knuckles. “Yes, yes of course!”

He hums a little bit on the rest of the walk, swinging their hands between them, and Rey laughs more than once, strangely, unquestionably happy and secure in the decision they’ve just made. She trusts Poe so much, she doesn’t think for a second that this is a mistake.

God, she loves him. _She wants to marry him_ – and fuck if that thought doesn’t come out of nowhere. Rey flushes, glad that he isn’t a mind reader, either, and tries to pin down the sudden surge in domesticity that blossoms in her chest when Poe pulls his phone out after dinner and starts flipping through furniture websites and color swatches, trying to see if there’s any improvements she wants to make to his apartment “before you move in and it becomes _our_ apartment.”

Yeah. Rey could get used to this.

**

Rey moves in with no great excitement the first week of June.

Well, she takes it very normally. Poe’s almost vibrating out of his skin in excitement.

He helps her carry her crates and crates of plants up the stairs, and Finn and Rose make an appearance with their car full of the things from her room, but other than a few boxes of stuff, all of Rey’s worldly possessions fit in a suitcase (she had a bed, and a small end table, but she’d found them at a Goodwill years prior and claimed she liked Poe’s mattress better).

Poe sits on his bed and watches her hang up clothes in the closet, half of which is now dedicated to Rey Niima’s belongings.

Rey Niima is hanging her dresses and shirts up in his closet, a year after he met her. She’s putting her things in his dresser, a year after he met her. Rey Niima is floating through his apartment, humming and setting out the plants that aren’t a health-risk to Bee, a year after he met her.

“What's on your mind, Poe?” Rey asks, pausing in her movements, studying his expression. He wonders what it looks like, right now.

“Just how happy I am,” he answers honestly, tugging her forward by the hand until she sits in his lap. “Never been this happy.” She hums when he kisses her, and they spend several, incredible minutes exploring each other lazily on _their_ bed.

“I’m happy too,” she whispers when they pull apart. Rey shifts in his lap, and yeah, he’s a goner, but her phone rings, and Rey pulls away much sooner than he’d prefer.

They can always come back to it, he thinks lazily, lying down on his bed with his hands laced behind his head. They have all the time in the world.

***

A month later, they’ve settled into a pattern of domestic bliss that Poe hasn’t seen since he was a kid, with Shara and Kes. It makes his heart hurt, and he didn’t realize, didn’t know, how much more he could grow to love this woman. He’s loved Rey for so long now, been through so much with her, he figured the depth of love he felt for her had reached maximum capacity a while back. But having her this close, all the time: it’s making him realize how wrong he was.

She leaves him notes on the mirror when it’s fogged over with steam after his shower. Rey draws him pictures and leaves them around the apartment for when she’s at work; she pulls blankets over him when he falls asleep on the couch; she burns scrambled eggs and then laughs while waving a cookie sheet at the fire alarm; she leaves her books and papers scattered around the coffeetable, a clear indication that she’s starting to see this as home, just as much as he does.

There’s a million and one things he has to learn about Rey Niima, and now he has a chance to see all of them. And God, does it ache, how much he loves her.

He considers leaving Shara's ring, the one that never leaves his necklace, next to her coffee cup; he thinks about sliding it towards her over the dinner table; Poe daydreams about bringing her bouquets of flowers with the ring nestled in the middle; he watches her clean the kitchen – half-heartedly, God, she’s terrible at sweeping, he didn’t know that was a thing until now – and he imagines getting down on one knee, taking his necklace off, and asking her the second she turns around to see him.

Poe Dameron wants to marry Rey Niima, a want that’s quickly becoming a “need.” He scolds himself for getting ahead of things; they moved in together, but that doesn’t mean she wants to marry him. Plenty of people live together and don’t get married. Besides, she’s so young, and he’s selfish to want to have her officially become his, and vice versa, until the end of their days.

So, Poe fights down the urge to propose, even though it’s borderline agony, all the ways and methods he thinks of to ask her to marry him.

This is enough, he knows. She loves him, and he loves her, and he shouldn’t ask the universe for more.

***

It’s a typical July morning when Poe’s reminded of another major reason Rey probably doesn’t want to marry him.

“Library again?” He teases his girlfriend when she emerges with her school things. “I thought you were done with all that, Master Rey.”

“That’s not how Master’s degrees work, Major Dameron,” Rey rolls her eyes at him but smiles, so he knows she isn’t sick of him yet.

“What’s at the library, Sunshine?”

Rey bounces on her feet and grins widely when she answers. “Well, I’m in the middle of narrowing down the schools I want to apply to. The applications’re due in early August for admissions next fall, and I’ll find out in February if I got in or not.” Rey taps her backpack nervously.

“That’s great, sweetheart,” Poe smiles at her, meaning it. “Where are you applying?”

“Duke!” She beams, and Poe does too. He likes the sound of Duke, and only slightly because it’s half an hour away. “And NC State, of course. Also, Colorado State – oh, and Cornell, plus I’ve been speaking with the head of the program at UC Berkeley.”

“Berkeley?” Poe asks, tentatively. “You’d wanna hoof it all the way out to California?”

There’s a few seconds of silence, then, just enough time for good, supportive boyfriend-Poe, and terrified of losing Rey-Poe to really have it out in his brain:

_She’s going to leave?_

Supporting Rey is the only thing that matters, here; and, there’s no guarantee she’ll leave.

_Of course she’s leaving, why would she stick around?_

Finn and Rose, for one thing, they’re here.

_But they wouldn’t stop her from leaving, they’d encourage her, because unlike you, they aren’t selfish._

Is it selfish for me to want to be physically close to my girlfriend? What if I offered to move with her? Would that be suffocating?  


Poe’s almost physically stirred from his internal argument when Rey smiles at him, nervously. “I don’t know,” she confesses. “I’ve only ever really been to the desert of Arizona, and then here. I was still a little high on the painkillers they gave me after Unkar while I was on the bus ride over, so I couldn’t even really tell you about my opinion of the middle of the country.”

“Sweetheart,” Poe says, frowning, and heart breaking. “Come here.” He holds his girlfriend tightly, kissing the top of her head, for almost a minute. “Need a ride to the library? Or do you want to use my computer?”

Rey perks up, slightly. “You’d let me use your computer? Really?”

“You can always use it, you don’t even have to ask,” Poe reminds her. “Well, maybe let me know, so I can clear my browsing history.” He hasn’t watched porn in about a year, but she doesn’t really need to know any of that.

She snorts and straightens up, looking him in the eye while she chews on the inside of her cheek, clearly considering something. Then, she says, “I’d prefer it if you told me when I could use it, and I’ll still probably ask a few times before I do.”

_Right. Good work, asshole, this is the girl who couldn’t use her dead foster father’s phone to call 911 because she’s so afraid of touching things that aren’t hers._

“Whatever you need, Sunshine.” Poe smiles at her as breezily as possible with his heart an open wound in his chest. “Whatever you need, always. Here, I’ll help you research the schools.”

It’s definitely an excuse to pass the next two hours, snuggled up next to his beautiful, brilliant girlfriend while she types away on his MacBook, but when Poe dozes off, his head on her lap, and her fingers in his hair, he can’t think of a reason to defend himself, especially when it seems their time together may be running out.

**

Amilyn Holdo passes away in her sleep the last week of July. One of her final acts was to publish a series of classified documents which worked to ultimately reveal the First Order’s activities as treasonous beyond a reasonable doubt.

Poe finds himself looking at his dress uniform six hours before he has to be in Durham for the funeral: he liked Ami, he really did, and he’s sad that she’s gone. But, a large part of him doesn’t want to make an appearance at the funeral. It’ll be a media circus, and it’ll be his first time in a uniform since his medal ceremony two years ago.

People have been calling him and emailing him for months now, trying to get a sound bite from one of the people at the center of the First Order fiasco, and he’s largely ignored all of them. Rey’s been a constant rock of support, and so has his dad, and Finn, and Rose. He even found himself over at the Solo house once, and had a surprisingly pleasant conversation with Ben. The tall, awkward Solo son even managed to avoid referencing his feelings for Rey for the whole half hour, which Poe counts as a sign of growth.

Holdo had believed in him, even when very few people had, and it’s that knowledge that has Poe sighing and getting dressed in his uniform. He stares in the mirror, cap still in his hand, and considers all the ways he looks different from the last time he wore this, and the time before that.

Poe Dameron at 30 had been a shell of a human being, and he tries to look past the mental image of himself, broken and haunted at his medal ceremony. Poe Dameron at 29 had lost friends and wore the dress uniform to their funerals, but he had been less burdened, stronger.

Poe Dameron at 29 had also been a real ass, he thinks to himself. Cocky, overconfident, trigger-happy – all the names leveled at him by commanding officers had been absolutely right. He’d been a bit of an ass, but he sometimes misses the cocksure attitude, the abundance of confidence, the knowledge that when he walked down the street, people were staring at him because he had a great ass and a magnetic personality, and not because they were trying to figure out if that was that sad veteran from the news.

His musing is broken by small hands sliding over his chest, and then a nose pressing into his neck. Rey appears in the mirror behind him, and she smiles at him before kissing him under his ear.

“Hey, Major,” she says shyly. “Ready to go?” She’s wearing a simple black dress, and Poe wonders briefly if it’s inappropriate to tell her she’s beautiful before a funeral.

 _Fuck it._ “God, you’re gorgeous,” he sighs, turning around in her arms so he can hold her, too. “Sure you want to come with me? It isn’t going to be easy.”

“It never is, Poe.” Rey kisses him on the cheek, and he closes his eyes and holds her a little closer. “But, I’m definitely sure. No place else I should be in the world today, besides next to you.”

“I love you,” Poe says hoarsely. “I love you, and I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Rey leans back in his embrace so she can cup his cheeks in her hands. “It’s the same for me, Poe. And I don’t ever want to find out.”

She has to reapply her makeup, in the end, because he kisses off a lot of her lipstick, but he doesn’t regret anything.

They’re quiet on the drive to the ceremony, their hands laced together over the gear shift, but Poe basks in her company all the same.

He can do anything, he reminds himself. He isn’t Poe Dameron, world’s best pilot and cocky asshole anymore. Neither is he a broken shell of a man who can’t get through a day without a panic attack.

He’s Poe Dameron, and he’s a combination of those two people, and he’s so much more. And with the woman he loves at his side, he’s got a good feeling that he can take on the world, and maybe even leave it better than he found it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that I vanished for a week on this, I know how I want this to end and it's been agony trying to figure it out, and part of me thinks that this is somehow not great/garbagey and I didn't want to publish it, so sorry, my perfectionism has chosen quite the time to rear its head :(
> 
> Survey time!  
> Next chapter is Finn/Rose's wedding (Autumn)  
> And then ch. 27 is the 'epilogue' (Early Winter)
> 
> So far what I have written is pure fluff --  
> Would you want a smut scene? Y/N? I have an idea for one, but within that, let me ask you another question (if you all are still out there/haven't given up on me):  
> Do you want a straightforward smut scene with lots of feels?  
> OR a return to the dynamic from their first few sexual encounters, aka, the return of Dom!Poe (But a lot less held back now that they trust each other)
> 
> So much to ask, so much to write, sorry for my brief vanishing on this fic, please forgive me, thank you for reading <3


	26. In the Center of It All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn and Rose get married; Poe surprises Rey; Rey and Poe enjoy their relationship in a variety of ways through the autumn and into the winter and spring.
> 
> ~check the notes to see the structure of the chapter~
> 
> (Also oops, published this chapter at almost midnight so maybe no one will read it for a while, but hey, it's over 8000 words and I just couldn't stop typing, sorry)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Chapter Title is from "Thunder Clatter" by Wild Club, and it's the second time I've used lyrics from that song as a chapter title in this fic, but it's so stinkin' good and perfect for the happier times for these two, ah, I'm a mess).
> 
> Alright, so this chapter is divided into sections, and is more of a collection of vignettes. 
> 
> They are labeled as follows (if what's in the section does not interest you, feel free to skip! This was the easiest way to #givethepeoplewhathteywant). Each section has different ratings/themes/maturity levels, so hopefully this will stop people from reading what they don't want to read!
> 
> 1\. Matrimony (October): Finn and Rose get married, sheer fluff, so much fluff, rated T, really G if you don't mind some language. Fluff Town, population: everyone in this fic. Oh my god, so fluffy.
> 
> 2\. Education (December): Rey has some difficult decisions ahead of her, as it becomes increasingly obvious that she'll have her pick when it comes to PhD programs. Luckily, her supportive boyfriend is there to help her make the best choice possible for herself. Fluff and some plot wrap-up. Rated T-ish with brief, implied sexual encounters.
> 
> 3\. Celebration (February): Rey gets into her top choice school, and she and Poe celebrate. Rated E for sweet, gentle lovin' where Poe acts the smitten kitten he's been for the last twenty five chapters. 
> 
> 4\. Negotiation (March): Rey and Poe have an adult conversation about their interests in the bedroom, dom/sub dynamics, almost all dialogue/build-up, rated M (no actual activity)
> 
> 5\. Demonstration (March): The Return of Dom!Poe. Rated E for strong language throughout, dirty talk, all kinds of sex, light bondage, dom/sub dynamic. Consent is enthusiastic and given the entire time, basically the fluffiest dirty smut ever, honestly.
> 
> 6\. Adoration (April): The Return of Sheer Fluff: Springtime comes to our favorite pair. Rated G for fluff, literal kittens.

Matrimony (October 2019)

Finn Trooper marries the love of his life, Rose Amelie Tico, on October 6, 2019.

They marry in The Resistance, where he’d met her four years before, when he was just a guy trying to catch a break after a lifetime of setbacks and bad luck.

If you asked either of them now, they’d say it was good luck they met that day, when Finn had jumped over the counter to stop a giant bag of coffee beans from falling off a shelf and onto her head – although at the time, the torn muscle in Finn’s shoulder would beg to differ. They always tell the story laughing, although that day, they couldn’t have been further from it when Rose smacked him on the arm and scolded him, saying she didn’t need saving. For his part, Finn had been so terribly smitten with the short, angry woman wagging her finger in his face, that he would have happily stood there and let her yell at him the rest of the day.

Of course, the rest was history, with Finn coming to work with Rose a year or so into their relationship.

The Iron Maiden of Honor (Finn’s name, not hers), Rey Niima, stands for both her friends, and they convince Lando to officiate. Well, he insisted, really, saying that he loves wedding and loves a good party. Why a bartender – with no clear or known age, and more than likely connections to suspected smuggling rings – would already be registered as a minister was anyone’s guess, but he does it for free, under the condition that they let him provide drinks for the open bar. And again, why that would be a favor for Lando, and not the couple, was anyone’s guess.

Lando Calrissian was a wonder, that’s for damn sure.

Rey holds the rings for her two best friends and when they exchange their personal vows, she cries into her bouquet of orange and yellow, a perfect compliment to the navy dress Rose hand-picked for her. To her left, Connie gives her a smile and a Kleenex, her blonde hair twisted into twin buns, looking beautiful in her plum dress. One of Finn’s friends from school is a groomsman, and so is Poe (even Bee is given an honorary tuxedo and bow tie, which he wears graciously – but Rey knows he’ll chew it off the second the ceremony is over and his humans are fully distracted).

It’s an intimate affair, with the lights down low in the coffee shop, candles on every available surface ( _still a fire hazard,_ the permanently disgruntled part of Rey’s brain points out) and the area of the building usually reserved for Open Mic turned into a dance floor. Finn and Rose get married in front of the counter, and oddly enough, each make the other their favorite drink after they say “I do.”

Employees and school friends and childhood neighbors who never moved away comprise the guest list: less than fifty people are in attendance, but Rose and Finn look so happy, it may as well be a royal affair.

Han Solo and Leia Organa make an appearance – and an absurdly large donation to the honeymoon fund – and Leia hands the newlyweds her phone so Ben can congratulate them over FaceTime.

After the vows are exchanged and bands of gold firmly in place, Finn sets up the playlist – guests are invited to walk up and add songs to the “up next” queue, under the firm condition that “Dameron doesn’t get to load it up with his shitty, depressing indie music.” In retaliation, Rey queues up the entirety of NSYNC’s discography, stealing Rose away to perform increasingly elaborate choreography perfected over the course of two years of intense friendship and cohabitation. Finn forgets to be angry when he sees how happy his wife is.

And, it may be because he’s a little tipsy off some whisky that Lando swears he just found lying in a crate in his back alley, but upon remembering that Rose is his wife now, Finn cries for about ten minutes into Poe’s suit jacket.

When Poe finds Rey on the side of the dance floor, he’s abandoned his tear-stained jacket, and is left in his white button down, sleeves rolled up to reveal his muscled forearms, shirt tails still tucked into his navy blue pants. He looks damn good, with his sweaty curls errantly pushed out of his face, and Rey purrs with happiness when he takes her hand and pulls her out to dance slowly in the middle of the party.

She tucks her face into his neck and hums softly. The song changes, but Poe’s hands stay firm but gentle on her waist; he makes no sign of picking up the tempo even though slow dancing is hardly appropriate for the upbeat rock song that’s now pouring through the speakers.

“Poe?” Rey giggles. “Should we be dancing like this still?”

“We should always be dancing like this, Sunshine,” Poe answers softly, and it makes her insides feel strangely warm, a molten gold. It’s a way that only Poe will ever make her feel, and she rubs her nose against his neck in response. He’s growing a beard, with great success, and she enjoys the prickle of it against her skin.

“I love you,” she whispers, ignoring the pulsing beat of the song around them, the much faster moving couples and groups, savoring this quiet moment where it may as well just be the two of them.

“That’s my line, sweetheart,” Poe laughs. He places a finger under her chin and guides her to lift her face and look him in the eyes. “I love you.” It’s somehow happy and solemn, and Rey feels about a hundred feet tall, but also protected and safe when he kisses her, long and slow, both of them forgetting to continue dancing as they lose themselves in each other.

Finn and Rose depart an hour and a half later, laughing as they get pelted with confetti – biodegradable, per the Iron Maiden of Honor’s request – by their guests on the way to the car. They’ll be gone for five days, gone to Washington DC on their mini, pre-honeymoon, and Rey’s so happy to have been able to contribute to their honeymoon fund using some of the money left to her by Ben.

She’s barely used it, but she has a definite plan for what she wants to do – it’s just a matter of planning and execution, at this point.

They all stand outside and wave goodbye to the married couple, and Rey rests her head on Poe’s shoulder while the taillights disappear around the corner.

“Want to go home, Rey?” Poe asks her, Bee sitting at their feet. Rey nods, smiling so hard that it hurts.

They get to go home together, and Rey laughs at the impossible happiness of it. Home is with Poe, and Poe is home, and life couldn’t be better.

 

***

 

Education (December 2019)

Poe sits down nervously across from her in early December, and Rey is immediately suspicious.

Life’s been pleasantly slow these days; she isn’t bored or searching for things to do, but she gets to choose what she wants to do with her time for the most part. She gets to see Finn and Rose frequently, she still picks up shifts at The Resistance, and Poe spends the evenings trying out a million new recipes and a million new songs. Rey’s so happy that she doesn’t have to worry about school, for right now. In February, when her acceptances (or rejections, but logically she knows she’ll get into at least one of the five programs she applied to) appear in the mail, she’ll be faced with a choice, and it will be a difficult one most likely.

But for the last few months, things have been completely uncomplicated, and Rey’s been enjoying rolling through her days with little to no stress on her shoulders. So when Poe says he needs to tell her something, her anxiety, always waiting for the other shoe to drop, reaches DEFCON 1 with almost amusing swiftness.

As if sensing her sudden surge in stress, Poe holds his hand out and she takes it, letting it anchor her. Poe smiles at her and fidgets with something under the table. “I … I wanted to do something for you,” he confesses. “And you can tell me if you don’t want to, but –”

He slides a pretty yellow envelope across the table to her with his free hand. Rey takes it and quirks an eyebrow at him, and Poe smiles nervously. “I was just thinking about what you said about never seeing anywhere besides Arizona and North Carolina, so…” He trails off and gestures at the item she’s holding. Rey releases his other hand so she can open it; she pulls out a travel itinerary and a confirmation for a hotel. In Berkeley, California.

“We’d fly into Oakland,” he says, shifting in his seat and rubbing the back of his neck, and Rey stares at him, dumbfounded. “The day after Christmas. I just think, ‘cuz it’s tied for your first choice and all, that you should see it, before you go.”

Rey looks at the tickets in her hand, and then at her boyfriend, who is a very strange shade of pink, and she’s hit with such a powerful wave of affection for him that she thinks she might actually pass out.

“Poe,” she whispers, “Poe, it’s too much.”

“No it’s not.” He smiles at her, softly. “I want you to make the best choice possible, sweetheart, this is the rest of your life, and you should do what you need to do make your future look the way you want.”

A thought strikes her then, and weirdly enough, so does an urge to say it out loud and not bury it under a joke or layers of defensiveness. Rey stands, shakily, and walks around the table, clambering into Poe’s lap. He laughs, wonderingly, looking up at her, and Rey places her hands on either side of his face.

“I think I already have a solid idea about what I want my future to look like,” Rey whispers, staring into his gorgeous brown eyes. He blinks, tears forming rapidly, which is fine because she’s already crying, and she kisses him with all she has, trying to telegraph into every second how badly she wants him, how much she loves him.

Poe picks up on it pretty well, and he scoops her up easily as she’s already in his lap, and they stumble towards the bedroom, not quite making it.

They giggle into each other’s mouths some sweaty ten minutes later, and Rey rolls onto her back on the hardwood floor. “Can I pay you back?” She asks, needing to ask. “I still have all that money from Ben and …I was going to do something with it, but I can spare a couple thousand dollars.”

“No,” Poe shakes his head and turns so he’s on his side. He strokes a hand down her cheek and smiles at her. “It was a gift, Sunshine. Just let me tag along, so I can see what you look like in the Golden State. I think you’ll make those West Coasters re-evaluate their previous conceptions of sunlight.” He winks at her, and she rolls her eyes, but accepts his heady kiss three seconds later, his body curving over hers. When he pulls back to smooth her hair out of her face, he doesn’t pull all the way away, instead staying close to drop kisses into her cooling skin. “What are you going to do with that money, sweetheart?” He asks.

Rey taps him on the shoulder, and he moves with her so they can sit up. “I … uh…” Rey shifts and Poe kisses her bare knee which makes her smile. Bee waddles over from his bed and parks his butt next to her, and she scratches him behind the ears when she says, in a rush, “I looked up my old foster brother and he’s going to graduate high school in the spring, and I wanted to pay for his college.”

“What?” Poe blinks at her, and Rey takes a deep breath to re-explain.

“Joey, my foster brother who called the cops on Unkar.” Rey smiles shyly, and Poe adjusts himself until he’s sitting right next to her, stroking a hand down her arm, frowning slightly. “Joey stayed in the system, and he stayed with a nice family the last few years, and I found them in May. They’re a sweet older couple, but they don’t have much. He’s graduating this spring, and I wanted to give him the money, so he could go to college. It kills me that I couldn’t take him with me when I emancipated myself, and I don’t really need all this money. I put some of it in savings, but –” Rey shrugs, blinking away tears. “I want to help him. I never needed Ben’s money. I just needed Ben. And now, I need to help Joey.”

“Sweetheart,” Poe sounds like she’d run him over with a car, and when she looks over, he’s crying. “Rey.” He holds her closely, and eventually kisses her sweetly. It moves quickly to something deeper, and he pulls her to her feet and tugs her by the hand to their room. They actually make it to the bed this time, and Rey feels the full force of emotion from a weepy, deeply impassioned Poe.

 

***

 

Celebration (February 2020)

While snuggling and watching Netflix a week before Valentine’s Day, Rey suddenly jumps into his lap, and Poe startles, but pleasantly. “Hey, Sunshine,” he clears his throat and tries to contend with the joyous reality of a squirming Rey Niima rubbing against him in very nice ways.

“I have something to tell you!” She announces grandly. Her freckles are stronger than they were this time last year, a result of their extended week-long trip to California around New Year’s. Poe grins at her and waits for her to finish. She leans over the back of the couch to snag something off the table, and Poe groans quietly – she couldn’t possibly be aware that she just shoved her breasts into his face, right? Right?

“Perv,” Rey says cheerfully when she returns victorious with a large envelope in her hand. “Here!”

Poe smiles at her and opens the package. He pulls out a letter with a familiar logo on top, and he raises his eyebrows at Rey, starting to understand. “Read it!” She chirps, bouncing. Poe grips her hip and moans.

“If you want me to be able to read, please, for the love of God, sit still,” Poe scolds her jokingly. “I cannot read if my eyes are crossed.” Rey twists her hips, teasingly, one more time, and Poe leans up to kiss her before complying with her request.

 _“Dear Miss Niima, we are pleased to extend an offer of admissions to the Fall ’20 cohort at Duke University…”_ Poe looks up at her, beaming. “Congrats, sweetheart! Tough choice to make, now.” She’d gotten her UC Berkeley letter two days ago.

“I already accepted.” Rey smiles at him, shyly.

“What?” Poe drops the letter to the couch so he can cup her cheeks. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” Rey fidgets a little bit before continuing. “My whole life is here, and I liked California, but the people are so –” she wrinkles her nose, and Poe laughs.

“Tell me you didn’t do this because of me,” he says, ears burning. He isn’t sure if it would be flattering or not if her answer was yes.

“No,” Rey shakes her head. “No, I mean you’re definitely part of the reason, because I love you, and the idea of being away from you for the next few years is physically painful.” He understands, completely, as it’s been nagging at the back of his mind, since their sun-drenched vacation. She’d just looked so pretty in the California sun. He would have moved for her, and he opens his mouth to tell her that, but she shakes her head. She has more to say, so he waits for her. “Poe, Duke offered me my own lab.”

“What?” He looks at her, excited. “Really?”

“Yeah,” she laughs. “Yeah, you would have seen that in the letter if you’d kept reading. They’re going to give me a whole flock of undergrads to train.”

“An army of undergrads?” Poe smiles at the image, nervous underclassman following their fearless leader into battle with bioengineering equipment.

“More like a cult,” she shrugs. “Cult sounds better.”

“You _are_ very charismatic,” Poe agrees, grinning. “Fuck, Rey, that’s amazing!” He kisses her, cupping the back of her neck so he can pull her down and demonstrate how excited he is. “I am so, so proud of you, Sunshine.”

“Thanks,” she giggles, shifting her hips again, very deliberately.

“That has to be on purpose,” Poe moans.

“Guilty,” she laughs. “Why do you think I’m wearing a dress?”

“Because you have great legs?” Poe laughs when she swats him. “What? It’s true.” He picks his phone up from the side table and starts typing.

“Excuse the fuck out of me,” Rey pokes him in the chest. “I thought we were going to, you know, do it.”

“We are, we are,” Poe protests. “But I want to make dinner reservations at the –”

“At that Thai restaurant? From my birthday?” Rey’s eyes widen. “Oh my god, I can get drunken noodles.” She cranes her head around to confirm that he is, in fact, on the right website, and she sighs happily. He hits submit on the reservation, and Rey kisses him enthusiastically. “Are you more excited for me, or for noodles?” He asks, not caring either way because hell, he gets to reap the benefits.

“Both,” Rey nods. “Definitely both.” Poe grins lazily, feeling happiness spool through his chest while he throws his phone to the side, not caring where it lands.

Rey kisses him sweetly, until it’s not so sweet, her hands moving down to play with his belt buckle. “Okay?” she asks, quietly, eyes intense. Poe nods.

“More than okay,” he answers. Rey smiles into the kiss, angling her hips off of him slightly so she can undo his belt, and then the button to his pants and his zipper. Poe lifts his hips so they can work his pants down, and he sits in nothing but his boxers and shirt while Rey settles happily back down into his lap.

God, he loves her, and that’s the only thought he has when her small hands tangle in his hair, tugging his head back so she can kiss the length of his throat. Poe closes his eyes, relishing the feeling of her lips on his skin, and he slides his hands up her thighs, under her dress, and plays with the soft skin under her belly button.

It’s easier than anything when she pulls his boxers down enough to free his cock, already hard and leaking, and she stands up briefly – he makes a mortifying noise when she pulls away – to tug her dress over her head and pull her underwear down. When she returns to him again, Poe runs his hands over her body, mystified that she’s real, this goddess is real and she wants _him,_ and he can have this.

He strokes his thumbs over her bony hips, and she smiles at him, undoing the buttons of his shirt one by one. They pull it off all the way together, and then it’s simple for her to lift up, grasp him at the base, and sink down onto him.

Rey sighs happily, and Poe releases a garbled yelp that was probably supposed to be “Rey.” She laughs lightly, and his hands find their natural place at her narrow waist, helping her lift up and down as she rides him slowly and sweetly.

“I love you,” he says, the words slipping out before he can catch them – not that he wants or needs to. He wants her to know that he loves her, always.

“I know,” she laughs, leaning backwards and resting her hands behind her on his knees. She rolls her hips down with more force, and Poe grunts from the effort of not gripping her tightly and fucking up into her as much as he wants to.

“Love you too,” she gasps, and Poe grins, his hand slipping down to toy with her clit. “Poe!” She laughs, obviously needing more, so he picks up the pace and fervor of his fingers’ movements. Rey tightens around him, and Poe stills his movement for her to ride out her orgasm, her mouth open in a silent circle, eyes closed and head tossed back.

He pulls her forward when she’s almost through, holding her close to his chest so he can kiss her forehead before taking over at last. Her eyes are closed blissfully and she sighs happily as he picks the pace up, planting his feet on the ground so he can go a little faster. It barely takes another twenty seconds before he comes, slow and peaceful, spreading from the base of his spine into his gut.

“Think we have time for another round before noodles?” Rey asks, hopefully, ten minutes later after she’s gone to the bathroom and wandered back into the living room. Poe looks up and sees her standing there in nothing but his abandoned shirt; his mouth goes dry immediately.

“Yeah,” he nods, enthusiastically. “Yeah, we got time.”

 

***

 

Negotiation (March 2020)

“Poe?” Rey asks one day when he doesn’t have work. It’s completely out of the blue when he’s drinking coffee and reading an article about an art exhibit he’s been thinking about taking Rey to. When she says his name, he looks up from the newspaper, blinking away the blurriness in his eyes.

“Yeah, Sunshine?” Poe puts the paper down; something about her expression tells him this is going to be a longer conversation, and he wants to give her his full attention.

“Do you remember the first time you uh,” she blushes and pauses. Very interesting. “Fingered me?”

Poe’s glad he put his paper and coffee down so he didn’t do something embarrassing like drop them. _That was over sixteen months ago, Dameron, get your shit together._

“I definitely couldn’t forget,” He says, honestly. He’ll remember it on his death bed, he knows.

“Well…” Rey fidgets in her seat and then folds her hands on the tabletop. “I’d like to go back to…some of that.”

“Some of--?” Poe says, thinking that he understands, but really not wanting to be wrong.

“Well, before we started sleeping together, I did all this research and found all these things that I found interesting.” She blushes furiously, and how the fuck is she so cute, how does she still bowl him over so easily, this far into their relationship? “And I know we took some steps back to just have sex and get to know each other, and I love it, but … I’d like to try something.”

Poe remembers, vividly, the conversation they’d had in his car a few weeks into their relationship, and he remembers almost crashing his car at the surprise he’d felt. He’s not much better off now. “What did you have in mind, sweetheart?”

“I want you to tie me up, Not with rope, or anything scary like metal restraints, but enough that I can’t move as much.” Rey says this very quickly, avoiding his eyes.

He nods, flushing as well, which is probably what makes her look more comfortable. “I can do that. What else do you want to do?”

“I like it when you, you know, get bossy,” Rey shifts and smiles at him, uncertainly. “Is that good with you?”

 _Hell fucking yes it’s good with me._ “Yeah,” he says in what he hopes is a nonchalant cool guy voice. He definitely fails. “Yeah, I’m good with that.”

“So you’d want to be the dom?” Rey asks, cheering up when she finds the right word. Poe chokes on absolutely nothing and tries to turn it into a cough. He fails at that too, and Rey smiles knowingly.

“Yeah, I’d want that.” Poe looks at her for a minute. “We should probably talk about what you want and don’t want, and what I want and don’t want.”

“Okay!” Rey chirps, and then she pulls an actual, motherfucking physical list out of her pocket. “Cool, I did some research on this!”

“I love you,” Poe laughs. “And that’s good, that’s really good. Okay, let’s go through it.”

“Dirty talk?” Rey reads first. “I personally like it, I think it’s really hot, but I’m not good at it. You?”

“I honestly don’t think about it,” Poe smiles. “I just say whatever comes into my head during sex, and that typically is enough to make a porn star blush.”

“I like it a lot,” Rey assures him, and God she’s perfect. “What about pet names? Like, what should I call you and vice versa?”

Might as well get this out of the way, quickly: “I don’t want to do a daddy thing,” Poe shakes his head, hoping that's not what she wants. “I get that it works for some people, I just – I’m not comfortable with it.”

“Me either,” Rey says. “But I’d like to call you sir.” She looks up at him through her eyelashes, and fuck his heart might stop.

“Yeah,” he clears his throat. “Yeah, I’m good with that. How do you feel about baby, or good girl?”

“I like it,” Rey whispers, cheeks red.

“Yeah? Both?”

She nods, biting her lip. “Anything you want to check with? You’ve done this before, I’m assuming.”

“I have, yeah,” Poe acknowledges. “But, never been this excited about it.” The confession makes Rey giggle, and he feels like he’s flying on that sound alone. “Well, there’s a couple things we should talk about before we get in the scene. Uh…pain? Is that something that turns you on?”

“No,” Rey shakes her head. “No, not unless that’s something you want.”

“Christ.” Poe takes her hand and strokes a thumb over her knuckles. “Literally the opposite of what I want, sweetheart. I want this to be good for you, and even if you did want it -- I honestly don’t think I could ever actually bring myself to hurt you. It’s a hard no for me.”

They smile at each other for a few seconds, and then Poe moves on to another point, looking at the list she’s placed on the table between them. “Orgasm denial?” He wrinkles his nose at her, hoping for her answer, and, sure enough, she says:

“No, not really,” Rey shakes her head. “Teasing, sure, but I’ve seen some really intense porn, and I don’t think I’m ready for it.”

“Oh, thank God,” Poe groans. “I can definitely do it if you wanted to try it, but I’d rather you come as many times as possible.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen when you come, Sunshine.” She blushes harder, and fuck he wants to see how far that blush goes, wants to see how it lights up her freckles.

“And what if I do something you don’t approve of, during?” Rey asks, shyly. “Would there be a punishment?”

“It doesn’t have to be like that,” Poe shakes his head. “Not unless you want it to be. This dynamic isn’t about me being in power over you and taking what I want, it’s about us trusting each other. It’s not for me, it’s for us. I don’t want to do a single thing you don’t want to do; seriously, don’t feel like you can’t break the moment and tell me to fuck off if you need to.”

“Okay,” Rey nods. “Well, I could be okay with spanking, if you were,” Rey shrugs, aimlessly, staring at the ceiling, but then clearly forces herself to look him in the eyes. That’s good. They’re going to be doing these things to each other soon, they may as well look at each other when they’re still full clothed. “Like, not enough to hurt? But playful?”

“That I can do,” Poe grins. “Safe word?”

When Rey tells him, he laughs full and clear.

She sticks her tongue out at him, and when she asks him for his, he answers easily.

“Rutabaga.”

“Rutabaga?” Rey quirks an eyebrow at him. “You nerd.”

Poe shrugs, carefree because after all, she’s right. She smiles at him and then stands up to pour a glass of orange juice and get her breakfast together. When she settles back into her chair, eating a bowl of dry cereal with her hands, Poe spends a few minutes admiring the way she looks in the morning light.

When she catches him staring at her, he blushes and goes back to reading his paper. The rest of the day they pass in pleasant activities like going to the park and visiting Finn at work; and they fall asleep around ten with season five of Parks and Rec still playing in the background.

 

***

 

Demonstration (March 2020, three days later)

They mutually decide that Tuesday night, after the normal routine of dinner and Netflix, is a good time to play around.

Really, when she starts feeling an itch under her skin, Rey flops around on the couch until she gets her head in Poe’s lap, and grins at him. “You look nice tonight,” she says, feeling confident when she adds a demure, “…sir.”

Poe stiffens and looks down at her, his hand immediately coming to her hair. He asks her, “You sure?” and Rey nods in response, already feeling the butterflies in her stomach.

“You’re looking beautiful, sweet thing,” Poe says, voice somehow shifting within seconds to sound lower, rougher. Rey shivers from it, and when he says, “Stand up,” she immediately obeys, scrambling to get off the couch. “Eager,” he laughs, putting his hands on his knees and following her so they stand face to face. Rey shuffles her feet, and he ducks her under the chin. “I am too, sweet girl,” he says warmly, and Rey blushes. “God, you’re beautiful.” Then, he jerks his head towards the bedroom. “Let’s go see what we can get up to, huh?”

Rey starts to bolt for the door, but he catches her around the waist. “Nuh uh, I’m going to carry you,” he informs her, and Rey understands – because they talked about it, at length – that this is him giving her time to say no, but she just squeals and giggles at the statement. Poe beams before his face settles into something slightly more predatory. He scoops her up and throws her over his shoulder, which really shouldn’t be possible given his height, but it makes her feel tiny and carefree and cherished.

He deposits her on the floor in his room, and takes the hair tie off her wrist. “Turn around, baby,” he coos, and Rey pivots, vibrating out of her skin with anticipation. “Relax,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss her shoulder. She shifts into the contact, but he’s already pulled away, gathering her hair into a ponytail, which he secures with the stolen tie.

“Gonna undress you now, okay?” He checks in with her, and Rey nods. He pulls her shirt off, first, and she’s so fucking glad she neglected to put a bra on when his calloused hands come to play with her nipples. He pulls away all too soon, and Rey arches into the empty air, fighting back a whimper of protest. “Don’t worry, gonna take my time with you,” he laughs into her ear, his hands returning to her body, resting on her stomach and then sliding down to her jeans. Poe fiddles with the button, popping it open with his left, while his right moves to the zipper. “Hm,” he settles his chin onto her shoulder, and she can feel his gaze as the top of her lacy underwear is exposed. “You are a good girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes sir,” Rey whispers, her hips already canting forward, seeking friction.

“So I should touch you?” Again, this is a clear indication of his need for her permission, and Rey’s more than happy to give it.

“Yes sir,” she nods, tilting her head back, resting it slightly against him. “Please, Major Dameron, sir, please.”

“Fuck,” Poe swears, low and forceful. “Oh, fuck me.”

“That’s the plan,” Rey says cheekily before remembering to say, “Sir.”

Poe slips his hand down into the waistband of her underwear, his clever fingers quickly finding their way to her clit. She almost screams at the sudden contact, and Poe presses a soothing kiss into her throat. “So wet already, baby,” he purrs. “You’re a very good girl.” His hands disappear again, and Rey could scream at him, she really could, but she bites her tongue and soon he pulls her jeans all the way down so they pool at her ankles. He offers her his hand so she can step out of them, and then he pulls her forward into his still-clothed chest.

At some point, he rolled the sleeves to his button-down up, and the top few buttons are undone. Poe’s hair is wild, but not as wild as his eyes, and Rey feels like a beacon of heat and lust while trapped in the power of his gaze. Poe kisses her senseless, and Rey sags into it, so glad for the support of his broad chest against her. He breaks the kiss all too soon, and Rey pouts at him, causing him to extend a gentle finger and run it along her bottom lip briefly.

“Lie back on the bed, pretty girl,” he whispers. Rey shivers when his thumbs find her elbows and stroke circles into the tender skin on the inside of the joint.

“Yes sir,” she murmurs, and Poe groans before releasing her entirely. When Rey lies down, she watches, wide-eyed, as her boyfriend undresses until he's only in his boxers, takes a scarf from the dresser before grinning roguishly at her, sauntering forward – because that’s the only word for how he’s moving, that or _swagger_ – and climbing up on to the bed.

Poe kneels between her legs, and Rey’s pretty sure she’s on fire already when he’s barely touched her.

His fingers catch on the sensitive skin at the notch of her collarbone, and Rey whimpers gently when he slides them down her clavicle, over her shoulder, skating the length of her arm, and catching at her wrist. “Ready?” He asks her, sweetly, the rough quality diminished in his voice. This isn’t Major Dameron asking; this is Poe.

“Yes,” Rey whispers. “Yes, Poe, yes, I trust you.”

“And if you need to stop, for any reason, what’s your word?”

She smiles, remembering their conversation from this weekend. “Stormtrooper.”

Poe smiles softly. His weight is resting fully on his heels, and Rey just wants him to touch her, fucking yesterday. “Why _did_ you pick that, out of curiosity?” He asks her as he threads the scarf through his fingers.

Rey forgets to breathe momentarily because he’s just so, so – so _fucking_ good looking in the soft light of their bedside lamp, but then she remembers. “Finn made me watch a documentary on World War I last weekend,” she shrugs. “Now, Major Dameron, I believe you were going to do something with that?” Rey points at the scarf and raises her eyebrow.

Poe snorts. “I thought I was in charge tonight.”

“You are.” Rey blushes and holds her hands out to him, wrists pressed together. “Sorry. I trust you, sir.”

“Fucking hell,” Poe moans, wrapping the silken fabric around her forearms. “Goddamnit, baby, you’re so good for me.” Rey thrills at the statement, and at the feeling of the scarf tightening. When he’s satisfied, he pulls her hands over her head and fastens the loose ends of the scarf to the metal bar of the headboard. “Too tight, angel?”

Rey tests the scarves and shakes her head. Poe rubs circles into her forearms anyway, leaning down to kiss her sternum, once, for less than two seconds. “You’re perfect,” he whispers, and Rey whimpers because when he looks at her like that, she has no choice but to believe him. “So good, so fucking good for me.” His fingers start toying with her nipples, teasing them into peaks, and Rey arches into it.

Suddenly, his hand comes to push down, lightly, on her stomach. “Don’t move,” Poe tells her firmly. “Stay still, sweet thing, can you do that for me?”

Rey nods, rapidly. “Yes, yes, yes,” she chants.

Poe strokes his hand over her stomach and she feels her muscles jump at the contact. It takes her full concentration to not move. “Good girl,” he whispers, mouthing along her collarbone. “Perfect girl.” Rey whimpers again – pretty much all she’s capable of right now, as much as she’s floating – and both delights and despairs in the fact that she can’t hide her face right now. “Do you want my cock?” Rey nods, fervently, curling her fingers on his shoulders. “I need to hear you, pretty girl.”

“I want it,” she confirms.

“You want what now?” He gives her a cheeky grin, and Rey loves him, she loves him so much.

“I want your cock, Major Dameron, please can I have your cock?” Rey says, fluttering her eyelashes down at him because two can play at this game. If she’s going to be a mess, he is too.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans, reaching up and tugging on her ponytail until she tilts her head back. “You’re going to be the death of me, I swear to fucking God, sweet thing.” He drags his tongue up the length of her neck, his fingers kneading at her sides and breasts, and Rey keens. “Gonna fuck you now,” he tells her, reaching between them and dragging his thumb up and down her slit. “After I open you up for me, I’m gonna fuck you.”

“Fuck me now,” Rey begs canting her hips up, seeking friction. “Please sir.”

“When I decide you’re ready,” he tells her firmly, one hand pinning her stomach down again. Right. No moving. His fingers return to tease her entrance, and quickly, he slips his index finger in to the knuckle. Rey feels her walls clench around it, and they groan together. “Maybe you already are ready,” he says, wonderingly. “You’re so perfect.”

“Thank you,” she says.

“Don’t thank me yet.” Poe winks at her and then leans down to kiss a nipple at the same time he begins to thrust his finger in and out slowly. Rey fights the urge to bear down on him, and she’s quickly rewarded by another finger.

She floats on sheer sensation, the sound of Poe’s voice praising her the only connection she has to the real world, that and the feeling of his fingers opening her up slowly. Suddenly, his warmth is gone, and Rey whimpers, blinking away tears.

“No, no, no,” Poe’s hovering over her. “No, don't be sad, baby, I want to fuck you now, did you not hear me?”

Rey shakes her head, feeling like he’s talking to her from a long way away.

“Fuck.” Poe looks at her for a second. “I’m going to untie you now, sweet girl.” Her hands are free a few seconds later, and Poe takes about a minute to kiss her wrists and rub the slightly reddened skin – she must have been pulling against the restraints, she realizes distantly. “You’re doing so well, love, but we can stop. Do you want to?”

“No!” Rey almost shouts it. “No, no, no, want your cock. Sir.”

“Don't wanna stop either.” Poe’s covering her body entirely, then, his cock pressed exactly where she wants him. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she says, hands coming to grip his shoulders, legs wrapping around his hips to pull him closer.

“Ready?”

“Sir, yes sir,” Rey laughs, feeling slightly more herself, glad that they’d taken a second to readjust.

He thrusts into her without further warning, and they groan together, Rey shifting to adjust to the angle. His fingers catch the back of her thighs, and he strokes the skin there firmly. And then he begins to move, and it’s never felt this good, she swears, holy fucking –

“You take my cock so well, angel,” Poe moans. “God, fucking damnit, it’s like you were made for it. Were you?”

“Yes sir,” Rey squeaks, shutting her eyes against the intense pleasure.

“Touch yourself,” Poe orders, firmly but sweetly. He pulls away, chest almost a foot away from hers, hand gripping the headboard so he can look down at her while continuing to fuck her. “Oh fuck, touch yourself, gorgeous. Let me watch you come on my cock.”

Her hand drifts down her stomach, the other still braced on his hip. Rey finds her clit easily, and rubs tight circles over the bud with her index finger, and Poe groans when she tightens in response to the additional stimulation.

“Poe,” she sobs, getting closer all the time, forgetting to say his title. He doesn’t sound like he cares, and he moans low in his throat as she hurtles towards an almost terrifyingly intense climax.

“Come for me,” he begs her. “Goddamnit, come for me, please, please –”

Rey comes, and someone’s screaming – her, she realizes, she’s screaming – and the last useful thought she has is that she’d thought she’d be the one begging tonight.

**

He’s never going to be able to think about anything besides the memory of how his girlfriend just came around him, but they still have some work to do. Rey’s boneless underneath him, her eyes glassy with lust and bliss, and Poe loves her, loves her so fucking much.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he informs her, thrusting into her gently. He’s so close, been close for almost fifteen minutes now, holding off on it so she could get the most possible out of this. “Baby, you’re so good for me.” Rey looks up at him, eyes shining, and Poe smiles at her. “Yeah, angel, you’re perfect, the best, the sweetest.” He cuts himself off with a groan, and kisses her neck with more than a little teeth. She whimpers at the sensation, hands scrabbling at his back, and he kisses the mark he made apologetically. “Sorry, sweet girl.”

They fuck without any hurry for a few more minutes, the only sound her gentle sighs and his own rough breathing, and Poe eventually pushes up on his hands, hissing at the pleasant-painful feeling of his bare skin pulling away from hers. “Think you could come again?” He asks her, gruffly, aware that the answer is probably a no, but on the off chance that it’s _yes,_ if she wants him to keep going, he will.

Rey shakes her head, eyes struggling to focus on his face. “No sir,” she manages to say. Fuck: he’s never, ever going to let her go. The trust she has in him is intoxicating, and he loves her, and he wants her to trust him, always, and the pleasure is building in his spine, faster than an avalanche.

“I want,” Rey whispers, before shivering, her eyes closing while she whimpers. Poe slows down, slightly, as difficult as it is, to try to give her enough room to breathe and think.

“What do you want, baby?” He asks. “Give you anything you want, swear to God.”

“I just want you to come,” Rey sobs, and Poe’s hips stutter. “I want you to come inside me, please sir, please Poe, Poe –” she chants his name in time with his thrusts, and he fucking loses it.

How could he not, when the woman he loves is this sweet and trusting and wonderful – Poe comes, feeling like someone hit him over the head with a hammer made of sunlight, his vision going out for solid seconds as he shouts unintelligible curses and some variety of Rey’s name.

They shiver together after, Rey blinking up at the ceiling, and Poe breathing heavily into her shoulder. He remembers to pull out of her, gently, and she doesn’t even shift or wince at the feeling, too lost in her head. Thankfully, he’d had the presence of mind to leave soft towels by the bed, along with bottles of water, and he spends the next few minutes cleaning up, kissing Rey’s legs and hipbones, whispering about how perfect she was into her sweaty skin.

“I love you,” he tells her, pulling her up gently into his arms when he’s sure she can move a little. He situates her in his lap, sitting between his legs. He cradles her to his chest with her legs tucked up under her chin while he rocks her back and forth. “I love you, and you were so, so good,” Poe whispers into her hair, kissing her hair and ears. “Can you drink some water?”

Rey nods, and accepts the bottle he offers her, already opened. She sips for a few seconds, and he helps hold the bottle up when he notices her hands are shaking. He stops himself from asking if that was okay for her – the last thing he wants to do is upset her or make her think _he_ didn’t have a good time – and just waits for her to come back to herself a little more.

In the meantime, he contents himself with telling her that she is the most perfect, incredible person who ever lived, and he is so beyond lucky that she wants to be with him. So, in short, he contents himself with telling her the truth.

She falls asleep in his arms like that, and Poe closes his eyes and rests his head against a propped pillow: exhausted, warm, and so impossibly happy.

 

***

 

Adoration (April 2020)

On April Fools’ Day, Rey tiptoes into the apartment, clutching her rain jacket around her body, trying to get past Poe without him noticing.

To be fair, the man had served multiple tours in active combat, so he notices her right away, even with his back to the door. “Hey, Sunshine.” He smiles at her and then goes back to his book. “Still raining, huh?”

Rey nods. “Uh huh.” Her boots squeak against the hardwood as she tries to shuffle backwards into the bedroom. Bee looks at her suspiciously, standing and huffing at her. “Shh,” she whispers. “Good dog.”

Bee yaps, which gets his owner’s attention automatically. “Bee,” he scolds. “That’s Rey, you know Rey.”

“Yep,” Rey says, praying that Poe won’t notice the high pitch of her voice. “Nothing to see here, Bee.”

Of course, her jacket chooses this moment to meow, loudly.

“Rey,” Poe sets his book down and peers at her over the couch. “Did your jacket just –”

“Nope,” Rey says, turning and fleeing to the bathroom. “Nope, nope, nope.”

She closes the door behind her and yanks a dry towel off the rack. Rey unzips her jacket and pulls out her newest friend – a tiny, soaking wet kitten who’d been yowling in a dumpster two blocks over.

There’s a knock at the door, and Rey shouts, “Don’t come in, I’m pooping!” _Smooth. Real smooth._

“Really?” Poe opens the door and smiles at her when he sees her crouched on the edge of the tub, holding a swaddled, drenched baby cat. “Huh. You might want to see a doctor about that.”

Rey rolls her eyes, but clutches the kitten closer to her body. “He was cold!” She explains defensively. “And alone, and wet, and it was raining, and he’s so, so tiny, and can we please, please, please-“ Poe’s smiling at her softly, which she takes a good sign. “Keep him?”

“Sure,” Poe comes in and sits down on the bathroom rug. “Of course we can, sweetheart.” He holds a finger out and the kitten sniffs at it gently before nibbling on it. “Think he’s hungry. What should we feed a kitten?”

“Uh.” Rey has not thought this through enough, clearly. She’d been planning on the blackmail and coercion she had thought would be necessary to convince Poe, a dog person, to take in a cat.

“I’ll look it up,” he says, laughing. “You get him warm. I’ll call a vet, so we can get him checked out.”

Rey beams, so impossibly happy at this turn of events.

So, they adopt a cat, and name him Ewok – she’d found him hiding under an overturned, cast-off pan – and Bee, overcoming his initial prejudice, becomes obsessed with his new brother. Life is happy in the Dameron household, Rey thinks one day at breakfast, before choking on her juice.

At some point, she’d started thinking of herself as lumped in with the “Damerons,” and she’s worried that she can’t even be terrified at how _right_ it sounds.

Well, crap.

***

They go back to the botanical gardens two weeks after adopting Ewok, and Poe buys a flower crown from a vendor outside before they go in, setting it on her chestnut hair and bowing dramatically and declaring her his spring queen, to her intense giggles.

She protests at first when he insists on stopping at every pretty plant– there are a lot of them, to be fair – to take her photo next to them, but she’s so gorgeous, and he can’t help himself.

They stroll around the gardens for hours, and Rey tells him every single plant name, and he kisses her every time before telling her how smart she is, how remarkable.

It’s a good day, in a stream of good days, and Poe wants to freeze time and stay here forever. But, he also wants more, wants to keep going forward, wants to test his luck with the universe and see if they can have nothing but good days, for the rest of their time together, for the rest of their lives.

They drive home around five, and Rey calls in an order for takeout before falling asleep with a light snore, worn out from all the walking they’d done.

When he looks over at his girlfriend dozing in his passenger seat, Bee perched regally on her lap, the late afternoon sunlight casting an ethereal glow to her perfect face, he feels a happiness that is all the more overpowering for how gentle it is. In that moment, Poe knows precisely what he wants, and what he needs to do.

He prays to the God that he may finally believe in again that Rey wants it too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is ~~~~~~~
> 
> The Epilogue!
> 
>  
> 
> Take yer bets on what's going to happen next, frands. 
> 
> And thank you, as always, for following me on this ridiculous journey, and sorry, as always, for my terribly written smut, and my even more terrible gratuitous fluff -
> 
> (I just don't know what to do when it isn't angst)


	27. Not an End, But A...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *The End Is Here*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second half of the chapter, in italics, is a journal entry.

It’s May, and Rey starts her program in exactly fourteen weeks.

Currently, she’s filling out paperwork, at the last second, because she was avoiding it on the off-chance that when she committed fully by filling out this last set, it could be taken away from her, and this whole thing would be revealed as an elaborate, painful joke.

At least, that’s the conclusion she drew with Maz in a painful therapy session last week.

Now, she’s chewing on her pen idly and scratching her signatures onto stacks of paperwork while she and Poe walk Bee on an seasonably pleasant day.

The park is beautiful with trees and plants she’d be more interested in if she didn’t have to fill all this nonsense out, and it’s only four blocks away from The Resistance. Poe had promised that they could go and visit Finn and Rose at the end of the walk.

Rey’s signed and initialed _Rey Niima_ for the hundredth time, while Bee does his business primly in a bush. Poe cleans it up and tosses it in a nearby trash can, and they continue walking.

Rey hums to herself and says, “I should change my last name, my last name is awful.”

“I don’t think it’s that bad.” She rolls her eyes at her sweet boyfriend, who’s always trying to make her feel better.

“It’s awful, Poe. In fact, I think one of the first things I told you when we met was that I’d want to change my name before going for my PhD. Ugh,” she shakes her head despairingly and turns the form over. “And now I’m going to be stuck with it, forever.”

“It’s just a name, sweetheart. It doesn’t have to define you,” Poe strokes a hand reassuringly over her shoulder, tugging on the end of her braid.

Rey huffs in frustration and shrugs off his gentle touch crossly. “See, you can say that because you have a good last name.”

“You like my last name?” Rey rolls her eyes and keeps walking, ignoring Poe who’s stilled. “You think it’s an okay last name? Really?”

“It’s a very nice last name, Poe” she assures him, laughing slightly at his strange need for clarification.

“Well – uh –” Poe is absurdly behind her now, but Rey can’t stop looking down at her paperwork. She pops her pen in her mouth and chews on it, standing still and waiting for her ridiculous boyfriend to catch up with her while she continues to read the clauses and requirements spelled out on her current page. “Do you want it?”

“What?”

When she looks back, Poe’s on one knee, looking more hopeful than she’s ever seen him.

“Marry me?” He asks, holding out the silver ring that never leaves the chain around his neck.

“What?” Rey blinks, pen still in her mouth.

“Will you marry me, Sunshine? Please?” She walks over to him, and she worries that the sidewalk is hurting his knee, but he doesn’t seem like has a plan to stand up any time soon.

“Poe,” Rey whispers. “Poe, are you being serious?”

“Yes,” He nods, fervently. “Yes, I – I’ve wanted to ask you for months now. Well, if I’m being honest, I was pretty sure I wanted to ask you to marry me on our first date, but I figured you might need more time.”

“You – you’ve been meaning to ask?” Rey’s brain is still trying to catch up to the vision of Poe Dameron on one knee in a sunny park, asking her, Rey Niima, desert rat and orphan, to legally join herself to him for the rest of their lives.

“Yes,” Poe nods, and shifts his weight on his knee. “Yes, Sunshine, yes, you can – you can look at my notebook if you want, I had speeches planned. Multiple speeches. Good ones, too, certainly better than this. God, fuck I’m doing this wrong.”

“Yes,” Rey remembers, then. “Yes, Poe.”

“Yes, you think this is a garbage proposal?” Poe smiles sadly.

“No! No, I mean – _yes._ Yes, I’ll marry you.”

Poe looks at, wild-eyed, and then he’s whooping and surging to his feet, catching her up in his arms. He kisses her passionately, happily, and then he pulls away, still laughing. “Oh, oh fuck, here.” Poe holds the ring out, and takes her left hand. It slips into place perfectly, and they both take a long time to watch how it catches in the afternoon sunlight.

“It’s—” Poe says.

“Perfect.” Rey finishes.

They lose themselves in another kiss that may as well transport them to a different galaxy, and they only break apart when Bee huffs impatiently. “Hush, Bee,” Poe scolds, wiping tears from his eyes. “So. Dr. Dameron sounds better to you, then?”

“Yeah,” Rey nods, grinning, examining the ring one more time. “Yeah, it sounds pretty _damn_ good.” The bad pun makes Poe laugh, because he always laughs at her cruddy jokes, and God, Rey loves him.

They’re eventually dragged back into the walk by Bee, who is particularly uninterested in the fact that his owner is going to get married to his other favorite person. While walking, Rey rests her head on Poe’s shoulder.

“I’m so glad you walked into my shop,” she whispers to him.

“I know,” he answers, turning his head to kiss the top of hers. “Me too, Sunshine. Me too.”

***

_May 4, 2020_

_I don’t think I can hold off asking her anymore. It’s become the only thing I can think about. I see Rey, I think, “Hey, wanna get hitched?”_

_She laughs, and I want to get down on one knee and rip open my chest for her, if only because I know she'll put me back together again._

_She yawns while we’re watching Netflix, and the next thing I know, I’m googling 24-hour chapels we can drive to._

_She burns cold cereal, and I wonder what she’ll look like in fifteen years, kissing our kids before they leave for school, when I have to slip granola bars in their pocket because their mom got distracted and wrecked breakfast, again._

_I need to think of what to say. Nothing I’ve written makes any sense, nothing’s come close to capturing how much I love her. But maybe –_

_I never stood a chance, really. I met you, and the pieces of my life started to move in the right direction again. I met you in the middle of the lowest point of my life, when I was convinced ‘happy’ was something I’d only be afforded in glimpses, and snatches, something that would be a distant sensory memory._

_It’s like something Senator Organa said all those years ago during her campaign. Hope is like the sun, if you only believe in it when you can see it, you’ll never make it through the night._

_When I met you, I had forgotten what hope looked like, Sunshine. But now I think I know: it looks something a lot like you._

_I met you in the middle of the night, Rey, and you reminded me of what hope was. I felt like I was at the bottom of a pit, trapped under all this weight with no clear idea of how to get free of it. It’s like there was this physical obstacle around the way up and out; but seeing you in that coffeeshop, that weight started to lift._

_I feel so selfish, knowing that you bring so much to my life, knowing that you’ve changed me for the better, knowing that I want – need – to chase this feeling the rest of my life. I know I’m nothing but a scruffy looking ex-pilot with more bad hair days than good, who’s probably more than a little too attached to his guitar and his coffee, but Christ, Rey –_

_If you’d give me the chance, I’d try to make you as happy as you’ve made me, every day of our lives. I want to grow old with you; I want to play you your favorite songs, kiss you every morning and every night; I want to fight with you over what season of Parks and Rec is best, and I want to figure out what you look like at thirty, and forty, and seventy. I want to have kids with you, sweetheart, I want to see you as a mother to my children, I want a family with you. I want a future with you._

_I want to marry you, Rey, and I can only hope you want to marry me, too._

_We’re about to take Bee for a walk. Let’s see if I can control myself, for the three hundredth day in a row. The chances aren’t good, but hell, I’ve surprised myself in the past._

_Until tomorrow, and the next day, and the next, until the stars fade and the galaxy spins for the last time:_

_Because even then, I’ll love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) Thank you for sticking it out to the end of this sprawling fic, <3 <3 <3
> 
>  
> 
> Who knows, maybe when work has me emotionally compromised in the next week, I'll write a sweet, sappy wedding scene ... or a scene featuring  
> *Cough*  
> Modern!Dad!Poe


	28. Epilogue I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE EPILOGUE(S)
> 
> This chapter: Rey and Poe in the months before their wedding, and then -
> 
> ~the event itself~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief warning: this is almost all fluff, but obviously Poe/Rey still have some stuff to work out. Poe gets mad at himself and punches an inanimate object in front of Rey which causes her to have a panic attack.

In December, Rey makes the absolute mistake of telling Finn she hadn’t bought a wedding dress yet, or even really looked.

“But – the wedding is in _three months,_ Rey!” Finn startles back, looking appalled. “You’re as bad as Rose!” At the sound of her name, Rose looks up from the couch, where she’s half-heartedly scrolling through her phone. She flicks her husband off and goes back to Twitter.

“Dameron, did you hear this? Rey hasn’t started looking for wedding dresses yet!” Finn turns to his friend for shared indignation as Poe walks back into the living room, drying his hands on his pants.

“Uh.” Poe exchanges a look with Rey. “Okay.”

“The wedding is in _three months,_ guys!” Finn stands up to grab his laptop. “Twelve weeks! So soon! Don’t tell me, you don’t even have a theme picked out yet.”

“Uh.” Poe clears his throat again. “Okay, I won’t tell you that.”

“You are all killing me,” Finn whines, already typing into Google. “All three of you have black holes where your hearts should be.”

“And you have a TLC _Say Yes to the Dress_ marathon where yours should be,” Rey points out, and Poe snorts while he comes to sit next to her on the loveseat. He nuzzles into her neck, and Rey sighs contentedly. “Be glad we haven’t followed through on my plan to just elope, Finn.”

“You wouldn’t,” Finn hisses.

“No, we wouldn’t,” Poe confirms. “If only because my dad is way too excited about the wedding.”

“Kes!” Finn exclaims triumphantly, pulling out his phone, “Kes will be on my side!” He’s dialed Poe’s dad faster than Rey can blink, and soon he’s stomping out of the living room, jabbering away at Mr. Dameron – who, by what she can hear of the conversation, seems just as horrified as Finn over her and Poe’s lack of planning.

“It isn’t too late to elope,” Rey points out, draping her legs over her fiancée’s lap. “Never too late.”

“I’m thinking about it,” Poe laughs, rubbing a circle onto her knee. “If only so I can make you Mrs. Dameron a little faster.” Rey squirms at the title, and Poe leans down, grinning, to kiss her fiercely, causing her to squeak. At that, Rose looks up from her phone, fully.

“If you two are going to have sex, can you at least go to the bathroom and close the door?” Rose goes back to her newsfeed. “Also, please don’t elope because you’d kill my husband.”

“We’d invite you,” Rey offers, unable to ignore Poe’s hand slowly creeping up her thigh any longer. She tries to pin his wandering fingers in place so they don’t get banned from the Tico residence for life.

Rose gives her an idle thumbs-up without looking. “I’ll consider it.”

“You’ll consider what, babe?” Finn walks back into the living room, tucking his phone in his back pocket. “And I can see your hand, Dameron.” Poe yanks his hand away, finally, and gives Finn an apologetic smile.

“We gotta go,” Rey remembers, looking at Poe’s watch. “I have to submit an assignment by midnight.”

“Let me guess, you haven’t started that yet, either,” Finn smirks and then plops down next to Rose. She rubs his shoulder reassuringly without looking up.

“No, actually, I _have._ I just need to edit it and send it in.” Rey pulls her legs off of Poe’s lap and stands. He follows her, and they say goodbye to Finn and Rose before they leave the apartment, Bee wiggling out from underneath the armchair to follow them.

“Did you really not finish that assignment?” Poe asks her in the car, stroking his thumb over her knuckles while he drives them back, the lights of streetlamps flashing in and out of the windshield, illuminating the planes of his handsome face in interesting ways.

Rey considers his question for a moment before responding, lifting his hand to her mouth. “No,” she admits, brushing her lips over the back of his hand, dragging them up to his knuckles, and then grabbing his thumb and straightening it out slightly so she can delicately lick the pad of it. Poe inhales through his nose, sharply, and she can see that his other hand tightens on the steering wheel. He looks at her quickly, out of the corner of his eyes, and Rey licks his thumb again, and she enjoys watching the lines of his throat move when he swallows compulsively. “No, that’s been done for ages. I just wanted to get you home, Major, so you could – you know.”

“I know?” Poe smiles at her, the expression heady even in the half-light, and Rey smirks and nods. “Help you look at dresses?” He asks, sarcastically. She knows he’s kidding – he’d told her weeks ago that they could both wear jeans for all he cares, he just wants to get them married, damnit – but she plays along for a second.

“Yes!” She giggles, releasing his hand; it goes back to the steering wheel automatically, and Rey rolls her eyes at Poe’s ridiculously safe driving habits. They’re only two blocks away from home, so she takes her chances, waiting a half minute before making her move. She brushes a curl off his forehead in the meantime, stroking down behind his ear, along his neck, and then she drags her hand back up, letting her nails scratch at his sensitive skin with just enough pressure that Poe literally shivers.

“Or,” she says, breaking the silence when they’re close to the complex.

“Or,” Poe prompts, signaling the left turn.

“Or, I was actually thinking,” Rey rubs his earlobe between her fingers briefly and then sits back in her seat, folding her hands primly in her lap. “I was thinking you could fuck me into the mattress.”

“Huh.” Poe doesn’t say anything, but even in the low lighting she can see that the back of his neck is flaming red. “You don’t say.”

“I do say,” Rey has a feeling she’s definitely about to win something.

Poe doesn’t say anything else as he pulls into his assigned parking spot, but he gets out of the car quickly, and jogs around to Rey’s side of the car before she’s even unbuckled. He bounces on his feet while he opens the door for her, and Bee jumps down out of the car and jogs for the door, as if knowing what his owner’s about to do. Poe barely gives Rey time to get out of the car before he pulls her into a bruising kiss, closing the door behind her and pressing her up against his car.

“Major Dameron,” Rey laughs, pretending to scold him, as soon as he drags his mouth down to kiss the length of her neck bitingly. “What will the neighbors say?”

“Fuck the neighbors,” he mutters, grinding his hips into hers ferociously. “But you’re right – you said something about a mattress – I think we can make that happen.” He releases her and walks backwards towards the front door, eyebrows raised and an absolute devil in his eyes. Rey smiles at him for a moment, feeling the now-familiar swell of happiness in her chest while she looks at Poe, her future husband, her sweet pilot.

She takes a moment to just look at him and count the reasons why she’s so lucky, luck she still doesn’t think she’s earned, before she pushes off from the car and runs past him, up the steps, into the complex, and all the way to their front door. Poe’s answering laughter and the sound of his footsteps are behind her as she fiddles with the lock and he braces his hands on the door, framing her body with his arms and kissing her neck while she tries to get the door open.

“You’re distracting me,” she accuses him, as he bites at the juncture between her neck and shoulder. “Ass.”

“You’re the one who agreed to marry me,” he whispers, rubbing his nose along her neck. Rey shivers and nods, finally getting the door open.

Bee bolts into the apartment in front of them, clearly not wanting any part of this, and Rey spins in Poe’s arms so she can kiss him, dizzyingly, as his hands come to her waist, and he guides them back into the apartment, towards the bedroom. He kicks the front door shut behind him, and Rey has half a mind to pull him down to the floor and get started as soon as possible, but she fights the urge so he can make good on his promise by the time they get to the mattress.

And he does. Oh, he does.

***

Things are going wonderfully in her program, and Poe’s going back to school to get his MLIS, so he can become a full-time librarian; therapy with Dr. Kanata has her calmer than she’d thought she be, hurtling towards this major life change (she’d never thought for a second she’d be someone’s wife, never thought she’d _want_ to be someone’s wife, but then again, she’d never thought for a second she’d meet someone like Poe Dameron), and Poe’s therapy’s been going well, too.

That being said, they both still have a lot to work through.

Once, while arguing over something stupid – she can barely remember why she’d bothered picking a fight a month later, it was something about Poe going back and getting re-certified to fly – Poe had gotten frustrated with himself and slammed his fist into the fridge, barely three feet away from her. Rey had flinched, physically, horrified, and she’d ended up on the floor with her hands over her head, folded into a ball, while Poe sobbed and begged her to forgive him. It had taken both of them an hour to calm down, and she’d slept at Rose and Finn’s apartment, Poe staring at her miserably from behind the kitchen counter while she walked out the door.

When she came back the next morning, he was still at the counter, sprawled out on the floor with five o’clock shadow on his face, and ghosts she doesn’t think she could ever be strong enough to fight swimming in his eyes.

“Rey,” he muttered. “Rey, sweetheart—” He looked so sad and scared, that she hadn’t thought twice before kneeling down next to him.

“You frightened me,” Rey told him, frowning, and Poe had nodded, tears in his eyes. “You frightened me, Poe. You can’t – you can’t do that in front of me.”

“I know,” Poe nodded again. “I’m so – I’m so fucking sorry, Rey. I wasn’t even thinking about – I was mad at myself, and I felt myself going back… _there,”_ and she knows what he means. “And sometimes pain’s the only thing that keeps me ‘here,’ you know?”

“I do know,” Rey told him. “I do know, but that doesn’t make it any better. I can’t – I can’t be around a physical response to anger like that Poe, it scares me too much.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, and you have every right to hate me, and I don’t blame you.”

“Blame me for what?” Rey asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

“For leaving,” Poe smiled at her, exhausted. “For leaving me. I don’t – I get it, you don’t want to marry some piece of shit that scares you like that. I get it, sweetheart.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Rey shook her head, and held her hand out. Poe took it, wonderingly, his thumb stroking her palm before their fingers wove together. “Poe, darling, I wouldn’t – you know it bothers me now, and I know you well enough to trust you not to do that ever again. Because if you do—” Poe looked at her with red-rimmed eyes. “If you do respond like that if we’re fighting and it’s directed at _me,_ that anger – I won’t hesitate to leave you. I can’t be around that, no matter how much I love you.”

“I love you too,” Poe started to cry. “I love you too, and I’m so sorry, and you’re absolutely right. I wasn’t – I wasn’t thinking, but I’ll never do it again, and fuck, Rey, I’d never, ever raise a hand to you, you have to – not even to get me off the hook because you have a right to be pissed at me, but you _have_ to know, that I’d never hurt you on purpose. Because I hate that the world hurt you so much, Sunshine, and I don’t want you to think for a second that you deserve it, because you don’t, and I hate that I’d be a person who could make you feel unsafe because that’s – that’s what I had going for me, the fact that I made you feel safe.”

“You do,” Rey assured him. “You usually do, Poe, and you’re allowed to fuck up, as long as you promise to do better. And I – I wish I hadn’t just left like that, but I wouldn’t have been able to sleep if I stayed here, I’d be too busy fretting over what you thought of my reaction, or what you were thinking, or if we’d start fighting again. And I know I need to face my problems head on and not run away from them, but last night I just needed to clear my head.”

“Me too,” Poe coughed, and looked at her with shining eyes. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“I appreciate that you are,” Rey told him, and then she stood up, holding her hand out. “Come hold me? Please?” Poe nodded, enthusiastically, and they spent the rest of that morning tangled together in bed, Poe kissing her shoulder every few minutes, her hand, her fingers.

It wasn’t their best day, but they have so many good (better than good) days that Rey knows it’s an anomaly, an exception, and not the rule. They went to see Mothma together a week later, and she gave them a reference for a couple’s therapist, so they could start to work on how their respective traumas matched and clashed, and they’re doing well, they’re really doing well.

***

It’s not always perfect, and nothing ever is – a month before the wedding, Poe wakes up screaming from a nightmare, and he doesn’t recognize Rey for a full three minutes. Then, he starts sobbing – she’d died, again, in his dreams, died at his hands, after the people who tortured him made him pick between her and his squadron (he’d chosen her, over them, and that had hurt him, too), and then made him shoot her anyway after they were all dead.

“Poe,” Rey says, horrified after he tells her _and it was all my fault, I should have died over there_. “Poe, it wasn’t real.” He shakes his head and buries his face in her stomach, sobbing, and she cards her fingers through his hair, anxiously. “Poe, I’m fine,” she insists, “Poe, darling, look at me.” He obeys, staring at her with tears shining on his face, and she strokes her thumbs over his cheekbones to wipe away some of the moisture. “I love you, and you’re okay, and you’re never going back there again,” she tells him. “You survived, Poe, you came home, and – and you’re my home, and you’re a good man. You’re a very good man, the best I have ever known, and you didn’t do anything wrong.” Poe clutches at her offered hand, and she squeezes just as hard as he does.

He curls up onto his side after that, and Rey wraps her arms around him from behind, her arm not really able to cover the length of his broad chest, but she kisses the back of his neck and tells him she loves him, and Poe whispers the same thing back to her. By the time the dawn comes, the sun rises on a sleeping ex-pilot and his very worried, but determined to help, fiancée. When he wakes up, she makes him pancakes, but burns half of them, and makes at least two liters of coffee, and Poe smiles at her wearily from his stool at the counter.

“Thank you,” he says.

“For what?” Rey asks, walking up to stand between his legs. She leans in and asks, “Can I kiss you?” because while they’ve grown so comfortable with each other they don’t always need to ask permission for more casual touches, she knows he needs an extra layer of protection and comfort around himself after he’s felt so vulnerable.

“Yes,” Poe murmurs, leaning in as well. Their kiss is soft and warm in the weak February sunlight that streams into their kitchen, and Rey scoots in a little closer to his body, trying to get as close as possible. “And thank you for being you, I guess,” he laughs after the kiss is broken. “You’re a wonder, Rey.”

“If you say so, Poe,” she returns, and then Poe pulls her back down for another kiss, and she hums happily, soaking up the moment and reveling in the knowledge that while last night was classifiably difficult, today’s shaping up to be a good day.

***

**

Somehow, his wedding is in three days, and Poe Dameron can barely keep his shit together.

He cries into a pile of books Chirrut hands him, and get a smack upside the head for it. “There’s – dust – everywhere,” he insists, and Chirrut rolled his unseeing eyes at him.

“You are worse than my husband,” the librarian informs him. “We have been together for decades, but when they made marriage between us legal, we went to the courthouse to file officially. He cried the entire time, and would not stop for days.”

The idea of Baze crying is interesting enough that Poe stops crying.

“You have come a long way, Poe Dameron,” Chirrut tells him, a comforting hand on his upper arm before Poe leaves for the day. “Your new life begins, and you have a ferocious partner. We do love our little sister, and I thank you for inviting us next week to join in your celebration.”

“You were one of the first people on the list,” Poe says truthfully, and Chirrut smiles joyfully. “See you on Saturday!”

“For what?” Baze asks, wandering into the lobby.

“For my wedding?” Poe clarifies.

“Huh,,” Baze scratches his beard. “Musta forgot.” He wanders away again, and Chirrut scowls after his husband.

“Don’t listen to him,” Chirrut says. “He cried for an hour after he got the invitation; he wrote it on the calendar four months ago, and he has a countdown on his phone. He thinks because I cannot see it, I do not know this.”

Poe snorts and bids Chirrut a very fond farewell, and then he leaves to go to his last tux fitting with Finn, the best man.

***

The day of the wedding has arrived, and Poe manages to drive himself to the botanical gardens without crashing. He changes when he gets there in the provided suite, a grey tux with a dark blue tie, and a yellow pocket square. He drags his fingers through his hair, nervously, and his dad walks in to the room and claps him on the shoulder.

“She wants to talk to you,” he says, grinning at Poe in the mirror. Poe turns and walks to the door without thinking, but Kes grabs his arm and rolls his eyes. “Bad luck, mijo. Can’t see her. But here,” he hands Poe a phone. “Talk to her.”

“Hey, Sunshine,” he says, putting the phone to his ear. “How are you?”

“Good,” she whispers. “Nervous about the ceremony. Is that weird?”

“No,” Poe laughs. “No, I’m nervous too, sweetheart. I think that’s normal.” While Poe talks, his dad fidgets with his free hand’s cuff link and Poe swats him away. “It’s normal to be nervous, but remember – I love you, so much, and that’s all you have to think about. Just think about everything we’re going to be allowed to share, Sunshine, how much of our lives we’ll get to spend together. That doesn’t make me nervous, at least.”

“No,” Rey sniffs, but he can hear the smile in her voice when she says, “No, that doesn’t make me nervous at all. I want everything with you, Poe.”

God, fuck tradition, he wants to run out of this room and find her, he needs to hold her right this second. “Everything?” He whispers.

“Yeah,” she’s definitely smiling now. “Marriage, house with the picket fence, dogs – multiple dogs – kids. All of it.”

He’d known Rey wanted children because they’d talked about it in the abstract. But now, an hour before they get married, it hits him like a ton of bricks. Rey – soon to be his wife, Rey – wants kids, specifically _his_ children, and yeah, he’s definitely going to run out of this room and find her, maybe get started a little early on making that particular dream come true, but his dad tugs on his sleeve and says, “that’s enough for now, mijo.”

“Gotta go, sweetheart,” he sighs. “But, you should know. I want all of that, too.”

“Good,” Rey whispers back. “I have to go, too. Rose insists that I wear makeup.” He hears Rose’s indignant voice in the background, but Rey hangs up, laughing before he can hear individual words.

“I’m so lucky,” Poe says, the phone dropping to his side. “Holy fuck, Dad – I’m so fucking lucky.”

“Yeah,” Kes straightens his tie and smiles. “You really are.”

“I wish Mom was here,” Poe admits, blinking away sudden tears. Kes clears his throat, and Poe sees that he’s crying too.

“Yeah. I wish she was here, too.”” Kes reaches up to frame Poe’s face in his hands, and they lean their foreheads together for a quiet moment. “You and her were the best thing that ever happened to me, Poe,” his dad says into the silence. “And I’m so lucky to have you as a son. I couldn’t imagine my life without you.”

Poe’s really crying now, and thank God he isn’t wearing makeup. “I love you, Dad,” he says, gripping his dad’s wrists tightly.

“Love you too, mijo.”

***

Poe bounces nervously at the end of the aisle – a habit for today – and Finn snorts at his side. He’s holding onto Shara’s ring for the ceremony, and Poe smiles at him, giddily. He’s vacillating all over the place emotionally, and when he looks out in the audience, he catches Dr. Mothma’s eye. She gestures for him to take a deep breath, and he obliges, smiling at the crotchety old therapist.

Snap and Kare are his other groomspeople, and they give him a thumbs up when he looks over. They’d met Rey six months ago, and they’d fallen in love with her so fast, Poe was a little worried they’d steal her away. Regardless, they “super approve” of her, and Poe’s unbelievably happy that the pieces of his life are falling together so well.

The processional starts up, and Poe looks down the aisle, eagerly, to see Leia Organa majestically stride down across the grass, one of the bridesmaids, looking fantastic at 58 in a dark green dress. Poe smiles at her as she walks, and she mouths ‘wait til you see her,’ at him from behind her bouquet of daisies.

Poe resists bouncing some more, and then he spies Connie from the coffeeshop, also in green, and looking cheerful with her hair in an elegant bun. She winks at Poe from behind Leia. Then, Rose shows up from between the hedges, and she looks overjoyed while the music shifts to the song Rey had selected at the last second, a cheerful classical piece that bucked the tradition of the tytpical bridal marches.

All those in the audience stand and look expectantly, and Poe’s heart is going to rip right out of his chest, he knows, from anticipation and joy and shock that _this is really happening to him;_ for a deranged moment he swears he can feel his mother, and Tallie, and Riva and Blario and Starck and Muran – god, Muran would be grinning at him right now, he knows he would, grinning at a notorious lothario finally settling down.

Then, the entire world fades away, and all the nerves and lingering doubt about his own deserving of the situation, all the distractions and the feeling of gravity itself – it all falls off, disappears from Poe’s awareness, because there she is.

Rey’s standing, smiling at him as if she, too, had fallen into this halfway place between dream and reality, where there’s fifty feet of space and forty people sitting between them and yet nothing at all that separates them, not anymore, not when she’s _right here,_ and they’re going to get married.

Her dress is yellow, brighter than a sunflower, and Poe loves the flowers woven into her hair. Rey practically floats down the aisle towards him, the skirt of her dress voluminous but not heavy, the bodice highlighting the smallness of her waist, the neckline showing off a pretty gold necklace.

And that’s about all the observations Poe has time for because she’s walking towards him, and her eyes are the only thing in the universe that are left, the only stars that are still shining, and she’s going to marry him – she’s really going to marry him, Poe Dameron, Hot Mess and sometimes-shitshow – this goddess has really actually chosen him (and she wants to have his _kids,_ but God, he can’t think about that right now, not if he’s going to get to the vows without sobbing).

She’s being walked down the aisle by Han Solo, and it’s ridiculous how much Poe’s focus has blocked the tall, imposing man’s presence out, but Han kisses her on the cheek, and takes her hand and puts it in Poe’s and _this is actually happening._

Cassian Andor grins at him and asks if they’re ready to start.

“Before Poe passes out, please,” Rey answers, and the people in the front row laugh. Finn nudges Poe, and he grins, bashfully.

“I like your dress, Sunshine,” Poe whispers to her before Cassian can start the ceremony. Rey grins at him.

“It has _pockets_!” she whisper-shouts excitedly, taking her hands out of his so she can shove them into her pockets to demonstrate.

Poe snorts and whispers, “I love you,” before Cassian launches into his script. Rey tucks her hands back into his, and he strokes his thumbs over his knuckles, unable to look away from Rey for a second.

“Your vows?” Oh, shit, they got there fast. Poe’s still focused on the way the sunlight plays off of Rey’s hair, how her subtle makeup brings out the green in her eyes, and they have to do the vows.

Finn passes Poe his pre-written vows over his shoulder, but Poe waves it away. He knows what he wants to say.

“Rey,” he clears his throat, and doesn’t look away from her, staring into her eyes. He can see her squirm slightly before she sets her shoulders and looks back. “I know you probably get sick of hearing me say it, but there’s a reason I call you Sunshine. You have lit every possible corner of my life the last few years, and you’ve encouraged me, every step of the way, to be the kind of man I always dreamed of being. You are kind, and funny, and you are not afraid to kick my ass,” Kes laughs loudly at that one, “and I am so ridiculously grateful that you agreed to be my wife. I can’t believe you took a chance on a guy who tried to flirt with you over his guitar, making moon eyes at you while singing – what did you always call them? – shitty covers of depressing indie songs,” and Rey laughs and nods, “but God, am I glad you did. For the rest of my life, I vow to cherish you, and honor you, to protect you, and love you, and to never, ever sing angsty covers of Bon Iver ever again.” Rey laughs and wipes her eyes before replacing her hand in his.

“Rey?” Cassian prompts, and she smiles and clears her throat.

“I’m afraid of a lot of things,” she says, clearly going off-script, too. “I don’t show it because for most of my life, showing fear meant giving up or losing my dignity, but I’m afraid of a lot of things. Poe, when you sang to me the first day we met, I was so afraid of being vulnerable, of letting someone look at me the way you were already looking at me. I was afraid for the longest time that you would leave me, or hurt me, or realize that I was no good for you. But I’m not afraid, not anymore. Fear is something I’ve worked through, with you at my side, and as dark as life can be, I know you’ll always be there to rely on. You were the first person who ever gave me flowers, the first person I’ve ever loved, and I’m so happy knowing you’ll be the only person to ever give me flowers, the only person I’ll ever love. You’re kind, and sweet, and patient with me always, and you’re sort of easy on the eyes, I guess,” and behind Rey, Leia whispers, _hear, hear,_ “and you make me feel so safe, and loved, and I hope that I can do those things for you as well. I vow to love you with everything that I have, and to try and give you the same feeling of security and peace you’ve given me. You deserve everything, the entire galaxy, and I vow to help you, and support you, and cherish you, and I vow to forgive you when you end up singing shitty covers of Bon Iver, because we all know you will.”

Poe laughs at that, and suddenly he’s being handed Shara’s ring, and it’s sliding back into place on Rey’s finger, and she’s sliding a silver band onto his finger, and it’s all so, impossibly, incredibly real.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife!” Cassian declares, and Poe kisses Rey, and she kisses him, and it feels like victory, and joy, and coming home, and he’s so caught up in the kiss – and there couldn’t have been a more perfect kiss in the history of romance and mankind, right? – that he almost doesn’t hear the roar from the audience, or Jyn Erso shouting, “You mean wife and husband!”

Poe Dameron would call this a happy ending, but when he pulls back and looks Rey Dameron – and yeah, he’s crying – in the eyes, he realizes that this isn’t an ending at all; but it very much _is_ happy, all the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was supposed to post yesterday on May the Fourth but I'm getting over being sick and I fell asleep at my computer, shamefully. So, I guess this is for Revenge of the Fifth?
> 
> Next epilogue coming soon ;)
> 
> (Also it may or may not be smutty, lmk your preference friends)


	29. Epilogue II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe and Rey enjoy being married but have a common anxiety;  
> Rey surprises Poe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: some lightly described but still very much there married couple sex  
> Warning II: references to difficulty conceiving

Poe’s been married to the love of his life for ten months.

It still doesn’t really make a whole lot of sense to him; he wakes up every morning with Rey next to him, her hand on the pillow under her head, the silver of her wedding ring glowing in the light. They’ve been together for more than three years, and his life in 2021 looks so utterly different than he’d imagined it when he was still broken in a hospital in 2017.

Their life is so, so good, and this morning, this cold January morning at 0430, Poe is so, so happy.

There are still some things that he works through. Depression is a reality, and one that he struggles with on and off. Right now is an ‘off’ period, and he works with Mothma all the time to keep optimistic that the period might never end, but also to work on strategies in case it does end. His anxiety is ever-present, and it manifests itself in him staying up too late finishing coursework, and him fretting over Rey getting a cold until she bans him from their bedroom, and him playing guitar until his fingers bleed some days.

But for every time he struggles or falls, his wife is there for him to look to, for guidance and support and love. And when she faces her own demons, he likes to think that he can be a rock for her, that he can be a light in the dark, just as much as she is for him. Rey Dameron is incandescent, and precious, and he loves her so much he wonders that his heart is able to fit all of it.

Rey more than returns the sentiment, he knows. He doesn’t question that she loves him – he does sometimes question _why_ she loves him, a scruffy ex-pilot who forces her to listen to garbage covers of music even though he literally vowed not to do that – and he knows she loves him in a way that makes his head spin.

He knows that they love each other because they talk about it; and they talk about other things, too. They talk about how to use that second bedroom in their apartment. They talk about which color would look best on its walls. They talk about if a crib would look better under the window, or in the corner. They talk about names. They talk about tiny shoes, and if the kid would get blessed with her nose or cursed with his, and if Finn would demand to be godfather over Han.

They talk about it all the time, but they don’t talk about why it isn’t happening.

Eight months isn’t a long time, Poe reasons. They started trying two months after the wedding, and as far as he knows, there hasn’t been a change. Eight months is not a long, long time. It is a time, and it’s time enough that his heart hurts at the disappointment in Rey’s eyes, but they haven’t visited the doctor yet. They haven’t given up hope, for sure, because eight months is not a long time. People try for longer than that with no results, and then everything falls together. When considering the trauma Rey endured as a teenager to her abdomen, and the accident she suffered a few years ago, eight months is not an inexplicable issue. No, eight months –

It feels like a long time.

To distract himself, Poe leans down and kisses Rey’s neck very, very gently, reveling in the feel of her skin under his lips. He doesn’t want to wake her (but he does), he wants her to sleep (he wants her to wake up and hold him so he knows everything is going to be okay), he wants her to be happy (he always wants her to be happy).

**

Rey wakes up on a freezing cold January morning to her husband’s lips on her neck. She sighs happily and opens her eyes slowly to find him looking down at her with some unnamed intensity in his eyes.

“Poe?” She asks, groggily. “Is everything okay?”

He’s silent for a moment, and she wakes up a little more and looks at him closely. His eyes are intense, and his beard is thicker than ever – a fact she greatly enjoys – and it, and his curls, are shot with grey in a fascinating way. Poe used to moan about the silver in his dark hair, claiming it was a crime that he should grey at 35, until Rey managed to convince him just how sexy she found it. 

“Poe?” She tries again.

“I –” He clears his throat and lies back down so he’s on his side and facing her. “I need you. I’m sorry to wake you, but I needed you.”

“Don’t apologize,” Rey smiles at him and wiggles closer to him, warm and cozy under the blankets with her darling, handsome husband. Poe’s shirt is already off, and the skin of his chest is warm under her lips when she kisses over his heart. “I always need you.”

“Please,” Poe says, hoarsely. Rey pulls back to look him in the face, and the intensity in his eyes is reaching inferno status. Her throat is suddenly dry. “Please, Rey, I need you right now, please—” Rey nods, worried but with a flare of heat in her stomach, and when Poe begins to cover her with his body, she sinks back against the pillows with a sigh.

Soon, the sighs turn to gasps with his head between her legs. It’d taken him less than thirty seconds to strip her pajama bottoms off her, throw them away from the bed, and dive down to kiss her so thoroughly, her thighs started to shake. Her fingers tangle in his hair, and she almost shouts his name as he does what Poe does all too well.

After he’s done, she relaxes bonelessly while he climbs up the bed, eyes still burning, and she helps him shove his pants down his hips, freeing him so he can line up with her, perfectly, their bodies knowing this movement well, a dance no less exhilarating for its familiarity. Doing this with Poe feels like home, Rey thinks blissfully as he sinks into her. This feels like home, because Poe is home; Poe let her build her home in him, she thinks as he begins to move.

Poe whispers a thousand and one beautiful things to her, but she can’t focus on anything except the way he looks as he moves over her. He balances on his hands for the first part, so he can lift one every so often and squeeze her breast over her tank top, or play with her clit, but soon Rey whimpers and pulls on his shoulders, trying to get him closer, and Poe obliges, always a gracious lover.

“I love you,” she says, gasping for air between the words while Poe drives into her almost frantically, but still tender.

“Fuck,” Poe shakes on top of her, and Rey holds him tighter, almost frightened by the intensity. “I love you so much, so, so much.” He gets a hand between them, changes the angle of his thrusts, and manages to push her over the edge while he continues to chant her name, how much he loves her, how good she is, how wonderful.

Rey’s aware that Poe loses control shortly after this, and she closes her eyes against the perfect warmth of her husband. He catches his breath with his face buried in her shoulder, and Rey cards her fingers through his hair some more, enjoying the way his beard rubs against her skin.

“I love you,” he says, again, dazedly before pulling out.

“I’ll love you, always,” Rey says, smiling at him.

Poe catches her hand and kisses her fingers before sitting up, ostensibly to get a washcloth. “And I’ll love you, forever. No matter what.”

He goes into the bathroom, Rey’s assumption confirmed, and she smiles even though there’s a sudden pain in her chest from what Poe just said, what it could imply, how it hints at a future they may or may not have, but maybe she’s overreacting, maybe she’s thinking too much, but she can’t help it because it’s been eight months.

Eight months, and no change.

It’s enough to make anyone worry.

**

***

In April, Poe visits Guatemala with his dad. They haven’t been back together in a while, and it makes him happy to see his extended family, and it makes him happy to see how happy Kes is.

There’s an awkward moment, when an uncle of a cousin, or a cousin of a friend (it’s hard to tell, honestly, there’s like fifty people here that he hasn’t seen since he was 10) asks him when he’ll be bringing a little boy or a girl to a party. Kes laughs and answers for him: “He’s only been married for a year, Esteban,” he scolds playfully. “Let him have his fun first.”

Outside the party, ten minutes later, Poe puts his hands on his knees and tries to breathe. Kes finds him, standing near the trees, and he doesn’t ask any questions. Kes always did know him well. His dad’s inches shorter than he is, but Poe feels like a little kid again when his dad hugs him, tight, to his chest, his own back bent so he can fit in Kes’s arms.

“It’s okay, mijo,” Kes assures him, rubbing his back. “It’s okay. Whatever’s meant to happen will come to pass. It’s okay.”

***

Poe comes back from Guatemala when Rey’s gone on a trip with Rose. There’s an awkward two day period where he doesn’t see his wife, and Monday and Tuesday drag by painfully. He helps Chirrut with a new cataloguing system, and he smiles when his boss complains about technology and the loss of real, true-blue organization. Poe attends his classes in the evening, and writes his papers.

By Wednesday, he’s fairly out of his skull with the need to see his wife. It’s been 16 days since he’s seen her: it’s the longest he’s gone without a Rey sighting since they met. Finn assures him it’s healthy, but he still drank heavily with Poe on Monday night and cried at a selfie Rose sent him from the beach with Rey, who’d had a long weekend break from her program.

“She’ll be back soon,” Poe had said, eyes wide with concern. “Wednesday, buddy.”

‘I know,” Finn wailed, banging his head on the table. That’s about when Lando gave Poe the signal for _get him the fuck out of my bar._ “I just love her so much, y’know?” Yeah. Poe knows.

Now, it’s Wednesday, and he just has to get through his shift, and head home, and his wife will be there, smiling at him.

But, then again, maybe not. He gets a text around noon, from Rey.

[Sunshine, 12:08 pm]: Hey, cutie, can you actually come by Open Mic Night, around 8:30? I promised Rose I’d help her with something, and I don’t want to take the bus home after.

[Poe, 12:09 pm]: Of course! I love you xoxo

[Sunshine, 12:10 pm]: Great, thank you so much! Love you too, xoxox

[Poe, 12:11 pm]: Always gotta one up me, huh, Dameron? Xoxoxo

[Sunshine, 12:11 pm]: Always. Don’t play this game, Dameron. You’ll lose. Xoxoxoxoxoxo

He smiles down at his phone and then returns to his tasks for the day.

***

He arrives right on time to the Resistance, and he’s surprised at the low turnout. When he walks in, the ukulele twins that he was always so amused by (and, like them, he’d been horrified that everyone thought they were a couple. They were obviously twins. Yikes), wave at him and begin their set.

They sing “Baby” by Justin Bieber, and yeah, okay, maybe the wink they shared was a little inappropriate. Still, Poe grins at them and stands in the back. There are only a dozen or so people here, and it looks like the Open Mic is already winding down. It’s a week before finals, Poe reasons, the college kids are probably at home studying or mainlining tequila. Ah, youth.

Finn wanders over to him and asks him for help moving something, so Poe obliges. He doesn’t see Rey yet, and it takes him about ten minutes to shift around coffee beans in the back. No matter where he moves them, Finn isn’t happy.

“Nuh uh,” Finn shakes his head. “To the left.”

“And in what world does you standing there bossing me around qualify as helping?” Poe huffs, irritated.

“What can I say, I’m just management material,” Finn drawls, unbothered. Poe skipped the gym this morning, so he rolls his eyes and finishes the job anyway.

He walks back out, and he’s surprised that the coffeeshop is now empty.

“We closed a few minutes early,” Finn shrugs. “Didn’t expect a great turnout tonight, what with finals and all.”

“Oh yeah,” Poe shrugs. “Figured. You think Rey’s done yet?” He looks towards Rose’s office eagerly, hoping to see his wife emerge. God, he misses her.

“Just go ahead and take a seat, she’ll be out in a few.”

There are only two rows of chairs left – someone had clearly been stacking them while he was in the stockroom with Finn – so Poe takes a seat at random near the stage and pulls out his phone. He plays a game idly for a few minutes, but he stops when Rose walks out on the stage.

“Oh good,” she beams at him. “You’re here!”

“Yeah,” he grins at his friend. “Yeah, Rey asked me to pick her up. You guys done yet? Need help tearing down this equipment?” He nods at the keyboard and amp still on stage.

“No,” Rose shakes her head and smiles cryptically. “There’s still a performance, Poe.”

“Huh?” He looks at her and then behind him. The Resistance is still empty. “There’s no one here, Rosie.”

“Just, sit down,” she says, waving her hand. “And welcome our next guest, Rey Dameron.”

Poe blinks in surprise, and Rey comes out of the office, at last. _She’s so beautiful,_ is his first thought. She’s wearing a soft yellow dress that flows out from a sash tied high around her waist. Rey smiles at him tentatively, and he literally fights the urge to get out of his seat.

“You’re going to sing something?” He asks, excited. Rey has a beautiful singing voice – way nicer than his, he thinks, objectively – and he’s always begging her to sing. She’s usually too self-conscious, and it makes him remember how embarrassed he’d made her, by accident, back when they met, back when he was still just The Ultimate Mess with a crush on a pretty barista, who thought the solution was crooning into a mic once a week and hoping she liked it.

So, he’s surprised when Rey settles onto the stool behind the keyboard and nods at him. “Yeah,” she says, softly, into the mic. It feels so incredibly intimate, and Rose and Finn are nowhere in sight. Poe thinks he’d feel like it was just him and Rey even if this place was packed to the gills; Rey’s so often the only thing he can see in a crowd. “I took piano for a few years as a kid, and I’ve been practicing. Still not very good, but you all will be kind, right?” She winks, pretending to address a crowd, and Poe blows her a kiss before resting his elbows on his knees and leaning forward eagerly.

“This is for you,” she whispers, eyes already downcast onto the piano. Poe smiles at her, hoping she’ll pick up on it even when she’s not looking at him.

“ _Close your eyes/Have no fear/The monster's gone/He's on the run and your daddy's here_ ,” Rey sings while playing a line of music that Poe usually associates with steel drums.

The arrangement is lovely, and he smiles at the John Lennon song, the one his mother used to sing to him.

 _“Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful/Beautiful boy/Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful/Beautiful boy,_ ” her fingers don’t hesitate, but Poe can see a tear forming in her eye. Is she sad? Anxious about playing? He resists the urge to jump up on stage, or to sing along with her. Rey clearly wants to do this – she doesn’t do anything she doesn’t want to do.

“ _Out on the ocean sailing away/I can hardly wait/To see you come of age/But I guess we'll both just have to be patient/'Cause it's a long way to go/A hard row to hoe/Yes, it's a long way to go_ -” The words Shara used to sing to him took on a newer significance when he came back from the hospital, and his dad would play the song softly on good days. Poe had only told Rey about the song last year, when she asked him the first thing he ever learned to play on the guitar. He’s so touched that she learned how to play this.

On stage, Rey continues to sing: “ _But in the meantime/Before you cross the street, take my hand/ Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans_.”

She finally raises her eyes to him as she moves back into the chorus. When she sings “ _Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful/Beautiful boy_ ” again, Poe realizes someone’s sitting next to him. He tears his eyes away from Rey, somehow, and Finn’s sitting there, grinning sheepishly.

“For you,” he says grandly, handing him an envelope. “And consider my hat in the ring, Dameron.”

Poe looks down in confusion while Rey finishes up the song. She’s still singing about a beautiful boy, when he opens the flap to envelope and pulls out a photograph.

In the dark of the Resistance, it takes him a second for his eyes to adjust and see what’s in the photograph.

Not photograph.

A sonogram.

Rey finishes the song, and she sits, patiently, while he stares at her, and then down at the image in his hands, and then back up at her.

“Rey?” he asks, and to his intense mortification, he realizes that he’s crying. He only just realized what’s happening, and he’s crying.

Rey comes out from behind the keyboard, and Poe stumbles to his feet, and runs to jump up on the stage. “Rey,” he says again, “Rey—”

“Poe,” she smiles at him, and they both halt, several feet away from each other.

“We’re having a –” Rey nods at him, shyly. “We’re – you’re—”

“Pregnant,” Rey confirms, nodding once more. “I’m pregnant.”

Poe lurches forward and then freezes, hands inches from his wife. “Can I?” He asks, breathlessly.

“Yes,” Rey nods, “Of course, yes.” Poe’s hand goes to her stomach, which is when he realizes the slight curve to it that hadn’t been there before, and he blinks twice only to feel the water gathered in the corner of his eyes start to fall. He’s crying, he’s a huge mess, this is impossible, this is going to be the scariest thing he’s ever done, being a father, but goddamnit, this is the best thing that’s ever happened to him. Rey gives him so much, she gives, and she gives, and now she’s giving him _more,_ and holy fuck.

“You know you’re talking out loud, right?” Rey asks, laughing. She’s crying too, so he knows she’s not really making fun of him.

“I love you,” he whispers. “I love you, and thank you, and holy fucking fuck, Sunshine, we’re gonna be parents.”

“Yeah,” she nods once more, and his forehead comes to rest on hers. Their eyes slide shut at the same time, and Poe breathes deeply, a part of him he didn’t realize was missing sliding into place, filling something inside of him, because this is happening, _they’re going to have a family._ “Yes, Poe, you’re going to be a dad.”

“And you’re going to be a mother.” He opens his eyes so he can kiss her on the forehead without missing and making a total fool of himself. He leaves his lips in her hair as he holds her tightly. “You’re going to be the best mother ever.”

“To the best kid ever,” Rey agrees, her arms tightening around him as well. “With the best dad ever.”

“The best,” Poe nods, kissing the top of her head again. Even through his joy, Poe realizes the absolute truth of the situation. “Holy shit, this is terrifying.”

Rey laughs, and laughs, and laughs, so he knows he’s not in trouble. “I know.” She pulls back slightly to kiss him lightly on the cheek. “But we’ll do it together.”

Together. That sounds pretty damn good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY ALMOST MOTHER'S DAY, Y'ALL
> 
> But seriously, thank you so much for reading this (now novel length?) fic. 
> 
> It was really intense to write at times, and in many ways, draining. Your constant support and words of encouragement/excitement meant so much to me while I was struggling to finish parts of it. 
> 
> I wrote this at first to be a light hearted romp in a coffeehouse, but then the backstories of these two started to pick at me, and then I started writing and couldn't really stop for a while. Weirdly enough, it wasn't the scenes of trauma and suffering I struggled to write (but I did struggle in the aftermath of writing them), but the scenes where Poe and Rey moved forward, past their trauma, and worked on healing together in a realistic way.
> 
> I myself was diagnosed with PTSD in 2014; I almost didn't graduate college as a result of my issues with the concurrent anxiety, panic attacks, and loss of sleep. It's still something that affects my life, obviously, and I'm so glad the story was received well, and so many of you reached out, on here, and in private, to tell me you appreciated seeing a (what you also perceived to be) realistic portrayal of PTSD, trauma, anxiety, depression, and the like.
> 
> There were several times when I almost didn't finish this story; but, seeing your response, and hearing your words, I'm so, so impossibly glad I did.
> 
> Hope is a strange thing; and, I'd like to think, that even when you don't know it exists, it's still there, waiting for you to believe in it once again. You just need to be able to find it. 
> 
> Thank you, thank you, thank you, from the bottom of my messy shipper heart.
> 
> -Draco

**Author's Note:**

> **POV change  
> ***Time skip


End file.
